Wish of the Dahlia
by Tomas the Betrayer
Summary: Fear is the Black Dahlia's ally. When her wishes are revealed, that fear will only grow. A final trinity of chapters exploring the Skullgirls' terrifying urban legend.
1. Beneath the Bed

" _Don't stop with my heart/ Take everything that I've got/…"_

She could hear music before the elevator doors slid open. The kind of slow, sad tune found primarily in nightclubs, made up of equal parts loneliness and invitation. If you were all by yourself with only a drink to keep you company, the song sat down beside you and wrapped itself close to provide comfort. If you weren't alone, then it helped remind you how lucky you were to have the person across the table gazing right back.

" _I can spare a few troubles/ Depends if you want them or not…"_

The ride up to the top had taken a while. Once the tallest skyscraper in an already impressive skyline, Vita Nueva boasted a reputation as one of New Meridian's ritziest and most talked about hotels. Walking into it was like stepping into a remnant of a more glamorous, affluent age. The lower levels were decorated with columns and colonnades, pediments adorned by marble friezes depicting half-naked warriors engaged in glorious battle. Fountains with sculptures of ancient Dagonian deities were showcased in the lobby, and bronze statues of stoic generals in full regalia adorned alcoves on every floor. This towering edifice was one of young Lorenzo Medici's first triumphs in his career. Its acquisition alerted any interested parties in the Canopy Kingdom that a rising star was in their midst. Considering how many of the original owners were gunned down to make it his, the architectural theme served as a subtle reminder for anyone not fluent in history. The conqueror had made his entrance.

" _There's good and bad in my life/ Darling, I'm willing to share…"_

Upon exiting the elevator, no such display of male braggadocio could be found in the décor before her. Located at the very top of this luxury edifice, the Salt Cellar Nightclub was a subtle, elegant oasis enhanced by polished silver moldings that resembled flourishing plants climbing the patterned black wallpaper. Beautifully wrought oak paneling lent a further touch of craft. The ceiling soared high overhead ending in a half-dome carefully constructed to enhance any music being played. As if to make up for this, the whole club itself was relatively narrow, far longer than it was wide. One side was dominated by a bar that ran virtually the width of the hotel, manned by no less than six full-time bartenders. The wall opposite sported ceiling-length windows flanked by blue velvet curtains allowing one to look out upon the entirety of New Meridian at night.

" _It's a short distance between us/ Say that you'll meet me there…"_

A stage was set up at the other end of the room where the band currently played. Pianist and cellist were both in black eveningwear, while the black-skinned siren between them showed off a scarlet sequin dress with red full-length opera gloves. Subdued lighting shone from small candles in glass globes set on the white-draped tables. This allowed for a better view of that breathtaking cityscape. Up here, it really felt as if you were above it all. Like you had ascended to a realm beyond earthly concerns. Or at least that was the impression it might have been intended to give off.

As she stepped down a short flight of stairs leading to the main area, the young lady found her appearance already caused a stir among the other guests. No help for it on this assignment. She needed to pull out all the stops. Black curls teased to full thickness reached the middle of her back. A sleeveless white cocktail dress showed off light-brown skin while making no effort to hide her prominent curves. She had on stilettos with thin white straps up to the ankle and a clutch purse gripped in one hand. Her roommate Barbie was a cosmetician, and she had been more than willing to spend an hour in front of the mirror while being plucked and primped. No lipstick, as it had been deemed too vulgar, but the right amount of mascara brought out her dark brown eyes for all they were worth.

Her heartbeat quickened as she spotted a solitary figure by the bar. Here goes nothing.

As she headed over, a lone diner previously absorbed in gazing out the window took note of her and half-turned in his seat as she approached. "Pardon me, miss," he said in a friendly fashion, "If you're not here with anyone tonight, can I interest you in joining me?"

The lady paused for a moment, then cracked a sincere smile. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm meeting someone in particular."

To her relief, he didn't press it. Just raised his glass amiably and gave a resigned smile. "You understand; I would have regretted _not_ asking more."

He went back to his drink and she proceeded on her way. Her nervousness was increasing with every step. This could very well be the most dangerous thing I've ever done. They say you have to live a story to write it. Really hope I get the chance.

With that she slid onto an unoccupied barstool and took a deep breath. "Mind if I join you?"

Her heart was in her mouth as the lady seated to her left glanced over briefly before looking away again. "Be my guest."

So I pass first inspection. Feeling somewhat reassured, she signed for the nearest barman and ordered a scotch on the rocks before settling her open clutch on the countertop. There was a mirror in front of them that ran the length of the bar, and she looked at herself for a moment prior to making her opening salvo. "Can I ask you a few questions?"

Her fellow nighthawk didn't seem surprised at the attention she was receiving. Wearing a white cocktail dress as tight and revealing as her own, she took a sip from her glass and held it by the rim to dangle playfully. "Is this an interview?"

"Yes."

The other woman seemed to absorb this admission before inclining her head. "Then ask away."

"Thanks." Glancing at her purse for security, the reporter got right down to business. "Are you the Black Dahlia?"

Maybe it was her imagination, but it felt like the background noise in the club diminished to a notable extent. Or that's just my pulse racing. The lady in question did not so much as flinch. She swirled the clear liquid in her drink, then emptied it slowly and without any hurry. Settling down only ice cubes now, she turned to face her inquisitive companion. "I have to say, that's a new one."

Not exactly an answer, but I'm still alive. Might as well ride this bull as long as I can. "My name is Casandra Soldados." Reaching into her purse, she produced an ID card with her picture on it. "I'm a reporter for the New Meridian Gazette."

"I know the name." Her companion cocked her head to one side. Without having to be told, a bartender came over and refilled her glass, which she picked up and smiled gamely. "Your headlines tend to be rather blunt. What was that one a while back? _Three Burned to Death in Schoolyard Execution?_ And more recently: _Local Schoolgirl Mutilated!_ The prose makes it all seem very gauche, but that's to be expected considering the subject. What does the 'S' stand for?"

About to launch into another query, Casandra hesitated. "Excuse me?"

"Your middle initial. Casandra S. Soldados. What does it stand for?"

The way the woman stared straight at her made the investigative reporter squirm uncomfortably. "Socorra." Then, before she could think twice Casandra added, "My friends call me 'Cat' for short."

"Aw, that's adorable." There was a distinctly mean edge to her voice now. Something told Cat this woman did not go in for pet names directed at her. She could fast feel herself losing control of this conversation. I've got to press my advantage before she loses interest. "What do I call you?"

One blue eyebrow rose. "You ask that after accusing me of being a mass murderer? I have to say, your pick-up lines leave much to be desired." She flicked a hand out in desultory fashion. "That guy who seemed interested in you before is still by himself. Maybe you should take him up on his offer. Keep the night from being a total wash." And with that she turned away and proceeded to ignore her.

Cat was not about to be dismissed quite so easily, however. "There's a rumor that Black Dahlia likes to visit this nightclub out of uniform, as it were. I asked around and decided to check it out myself."

"You don't seem her type," the woman remarked to the bottom of her glass.

"It was a bad lead. I see that now. But maybe you can help me all the same."

Quick as a flash Cat's hand dove into her purse. The gun was in her grip just as fast, but before she could withdraw it something wound swiftly around her elbow. Next thing Cat knew she was tied securely to the silver bannister by a length of rubber hose, the type used by hospitals to increase circulation prior to drawing blood. More remarkable than this was the feel of a cold metal implement being pressed against her collarbone. The young woman froze, taking short quick breaths as she glanced down. Sure enough, a thin blade gleamed ever so faintly in the light.

"Puncturing the subclavian artery is trickier than the femoral owing to its location. For the same reason, though, compressions to halt bleeding are virtually impossible. By twisting the weapon you can further reduce any opportunity for vasospasm which might otherwise save the target's life. Actually, just by telling you this, I'm decreasing the likelihood that you would survive. A victim's own fear works against them just as effectively as the wound itself. You might even expire from shock at the first sight of blood. I've seen it before."

Under normal circumstances, Cat would have been scared to death at being in this situation. Hanging on the edge not knowing if you were about to die was torture. Anticipation made it all the worse. But something the woman said got her reporter's juices flowing.

It was all about fear.

There was no sudden sharp pain, no spurt of blood. The woman reached over and drew the evening purse over to her. Cat made no attempt to resist. The knife never wavered from its place half-concealed against her chest. None of the other club patrons took notice of her predicament. She waited as her belongings were rifled through, including the small derringer pistol. "It's not loaded," the captive journalist mumbled feebly.

An amused snort sounded. "You came hunting the Dahlia with an empty weapon? Talk about naïve."

The pistol disappeared somewhere about that white dress. A second later the rubber tie came loose and Cat was free. Nursing her tingling limb, she watched the deadly mystery sitting calmly right beside her. Seems my hunch was right. "You're one of those people from the Labs, aren't you? The ones nobody in the government will even admit exists. The Anti-Skullgirl Labs."

A smile crooked the woman's upper lip, which was split along one side by a gash that left part of her mouth permanently exposed. "You can call me Valentine." She regarded Cat critically for a moment. "So… a reporter. Well, that explains your tact and air of righteous certainty. And you've sought me out because… you wanted to be in tomorrow's headlines in a different way?"

Being up close and face to face let her see the woman's eyes were dark red. This combined with the blue hair, pale skin and white dress gave her a macabre appearance, like a vampire or a phantom. Something already dead. Still unnerved by what just took place, Cat shook her head quickly. "I write about the Dahlia," she said in a half-whisper, half-gasp. "It's my focus. Everybody at the Gazette knows when something about her comes up, they send it over to me. It's been that way for years."

"You have an impressive body of work, I'll give you that." Valentine's blood-red gaze drifted up and down for a second as though examining her. "Maybe you should explain why we're talking this evening."

The determined journalist swallowed her fear. Gripping the edge of the stool with one hand while holding onto the railing with the other, she scooted forward and stated, "I want to destroy the Black Dahlia."

Half-lidded crimson eyes did not even blink. "Hmm." This brief exclamation spoke volumes as to what she considered Cat's chances of success.

"I'm talking metaphorically." Her face had taken on a stubborn, sullen cast. "I don't want to fight her. My aim is to destroy the myth around her. The fear." She leaned a little closer. "There's another rumor that says the Black Dahlia was one of you at some point. That she came out of those Labs, and that's why nobody seems to know anything about her."

"I couldn't hazard a guess as to that," Valentine smirked playfully. She turned in her seat so they were confronting each other directly. With easy grace the government assassin slid a hand across the countertop until her manicured fingers were almost touching Cat's. The black-haired girl's attention drifted down to focus on that with a sort of fascination. "In certain circles, there's only one rule regarding that woman," Valentine spoke. "And that's _'Terminate on Sight'_."

Soldados swallowed and forced herself to look away from the suggested bodily contact. She had a strong suspicion this person was messing with her, for kicks or something more serious. It wouldn't be the first time a source fooled around before spilling their secrets. I need to play along. With that she crossed her legs at the knee, in doing so bringing her leather-strapped ankle within a hair's-breadth of Valentine's bare skin. "If that's the case, how do you explain the fact that no one's taken her out in all this time? She's been active since before I was born. Common sense says a violent mass murderer who leaves a calling card at every one of her hits should have been arrested or gunned down by now. Yet she strolls about in broad daylight and everybody acts like there's nothing wrong."

"I'd call it crazy, to be honest." Very slowly, Valentine reciprocated Cat's previous movement, taking exquisite care not to touch her while doing so. Somehow this made the process all the more exhilarating, especially since when she finished up their calves were just a slip away from each other. "An irrational reaction to a problem for which society has not yet come up with a workable solution."

Cat swallowed, feeling her heart pound for a different reason than fear. "I think it's worse than that. It's almost like her existence goes beyond laws or even reason. Like she's… part of a story that everyone has accepted." Her eyes drifted towards the floor, momentarily forgetting the compromising position she found herself in. "My Gam used to tell me fairy tales when I was a girl. The sort we all hear; two little children alone in the woods, they meet an evil witch in a candy hut who wants to eat them. An old monster-woman who eats kids? Someone like that is too bizarre for real life. But in stories, we all just accept it as fact. No questions asked. The witch is just the witch. There's no need to wonder where she came from or even why she does what she does. Still, I checked under my bed every night for a week after hearing that story."

" _You're calling the tune/ I'm dancing my cue. Your love is inside me/ What more can I do…?"_

The reporter shivered slightly. She listened to the velvet-throated singer onstage for a while to try and arrange her thoughts before continuing.

"I've written dozens of articles about the Dahlia's exploits. Some of them are so grotesque I can hardly believe they're real. But the evidence is right there in black and white. And nobody has ever tried to bring her to trial. At first I thought it was because of the Medici and all their influence. But after a while I started to wonder… maybe it's just her? Maybe we've built up a fairy tale around the Dahlia that allows this maniac to walk among us as though that's her role in our society. Children's stories are supposed to teach us lessons; don't take candy from strangers, always keep your word. That sort of thing. What are we supposed to learn from keeping a monster like that in our lives?"

The blue-haired beauty regarded her thoughtfully. She reached over and picked up her drink to take a sip. The sense of teasing flirtation from before was conspicuously absent. "It's an unusual theory. How does it advance your proposal to bring her down?"

A reporter's instincts helped Cat recognize that Valentine might be more willing to open up now. There was information here. It made her feel closer to the truth than anything that had come out before. I just need to help bring it into the light.

She screwed up her courage and reached forward to take the other woman's hand. Surprisingly, that porcelain flesh proved as warm and alive as any other person's. There was a faint tension there too, as though in preparation to spring forward and cut Cat's throat at the slightest provocation. Let anyone watching think what they might about two ladies sharing such a level of closeness.

The spy regarded the reporter, still holding her glass with the other hand. She seemed ready to wait. Nonetheless the veteran journalist proceeded to the heart of tonight's business.

"I want to tell the world the truth about Black Dahlia," Cat spoke with steely determination. "Not what she is; _who_ she is. I want to give them a name, a history, a family. _Anything._ Anything real and solid to put in their hands and wake them up from this fantasy we've all concocted about a scary faceless killer who murders us whenever she feels like it. She's _not_ part of some story. I want to find out the witch's real name. I want to let everyone know she grew up on a little street in Canopolis and she had an aunt named Betty Jo and she went to school like every girl her age and when she was six years old she took third place in a local spelling bee. So that maybe, just maybe, the next time she kills another human being, people won't look away. They won't let her get away with it. They'll come pouring out into the streets and jump on her car and pull her out kicking and screaming to be arrested like every other murderer out there!" She took a deep breath, feeling her body tremble from adrenaline. "And that'll be that."

Without realizing it their fingers had joined together, squeezing tightly. Valentine remained sitting motionless across from her. Elbow crooked and glass now raised to shoulder-level, she leaned back a little, eyes closing. "So you want a name?"

Those scarlet orbs opened wide, and Cat felt herself go cold.

"Then let me tell you a story…"

* * *

The building they stood before looked no different than any other crumbling tenement that lined this street in the capitol city of Canopolis. No one lived here anymore. It was a region that had never recovered from the wars that rocked the nation over the centuries. Once a home for immigrant families whose languages still lingered in the names of crooked street signs that dotted every corner, it was now a testament to the power of war, famine, and death.

One shy of an apocalypse, Valentine thought to herself. Maybe we got lucky.

"This is the place."

The ninja nurse looked down at her partner for this evening. Hallow stood nowhere near her own 6-foot height. Short and somewhat boyish in appearance, she also had on a black nurse's outfit that contrasted starkly with Valentine's own. Metal gloves containing numerous syringes encased her hands, and she sported a soot-colored gas mask that left only her eyes visible. Those pale gray circles rested on the boarded-up brownstone in front of them. Maybe six stories high, there was not a single unbroken window in any of the apartments facing the street. Trash and broken furniture of all kinds littered the alleyways hereabouts. No one had lived here for decades.

"You really think there's anything of value left in this hulk?" Valentine crossed her arms and stared at the wreckage disdainfully.

"At the very least, we'll probably pick up some exotic diseases worth examining," the smaller agent retorted. "Hope you've had your shots."

"Hilarious," Valentine drawled. "I'm busting a stitch."

"Better that than a button." Hallow indicated toward her ally's straining bust. "You're down to your last one." Possessing a famously grim sense of humor, the youngest member of the Last Hope had a mischievous streak most people wouldn't guess just by looking at her. She also possessed other more disturbing hobbies besides cracking wise, and it was this that had brought them here today.

They proceeded up the stone steps that led to the apartment building's front door. Valentine kept her eyes peeled for any sign of traps or sabotage. If this wasn't just a wild goose chase, there was every reason to assume the place held more danger than simple tetanus and mold. She was only willing to help Hallow in her private pursuits because it might lead to a big payoff. Maybe big enough to get the higher-ups considering her for the role of team leader rather than Christmas, who currently held the title. Let her crack-brain boyfriend try and gainsay their decision. He'd probably blow a synapse.

This thought put her in a better mood. Valentine indicated they should proceed. Hallow looked through the windows to either side and gave a thumbs up. Gripping the tarnished green door handle, she eased it open a crack, half-expecting the whole thing to fall apart. It did not, however, merely let out a ghostly creak from rusty hinges. After peeking inside for good measure, the older agent opened the door fully.

They both stepped inside. The building foyer had a pattern of tiny tiles on the floor that soon gave way to wooden boards leading over to a staircase. Stairs wound all around the interior. You could see straight up to the top. There must be about forty different apartments altogether. Valentine craned her head around with a grimace. She pulled down her facemask and shot Hallow an accusing look, earning only a shrug in return. Not what either of them would call an exciting prospect for the evening.

"What was the name again?" she asked.

"Short." Her deceptively tiny ally marched towards the wooden stairs. "Elizabeth Short."

Valentine had a hard time believing this to be correct. Still, who's to say otherwise? We live in a world of Skull Hearts and Parasites. Is it really so hard to accept that someone named Short would turn out to be a crazed killer responsible for countless murders?

That's what Hallow believed. This was her assignment, one not sanctioned by the Labs whether officially or otherwise. The Black Dahlia held something of a fascination for her. She researched and studied the woman to great extent. A terrifically morbid pastime, well suited for her by looks alone. But Hallow's interest in this subject went beyond mere curiosity. It was a fixation bordering on obsession, made all the more maddening since results were hard to come by. One might assume the Anti-Skullgirl Labs would hold more information on the woman known to the rest of the world as Black Dahlia than anywhere else.

And you would be mistaken. Data related to her was limited to what came out of the Labs, not before. And even that was in scant supply. Dr. Victor Geiger, the Labs' founder and one of the few people alive to have known the Dahlia during her time there, absolutely refused to speak about her to anyone. It was one of the only things Valentine could ever recall seeing him become truly angry over. Some said Dr. Geiger considered her to be the worst thing to ever emerge from the AS Labs research. Considering all the nightmares contained in their files, how awful could the creation of one cyborg be?

Further research was spotty at best. According to records Hallow had unearthed, the Black Dahlia was a fallen soldier recovered from the battlefield and brought to the Labs, one of many selected for experimentation. Her true identity was impossible to determine due to the injuries she suffered. Just another faceless victim of the Canopy Kingdom's long history of violence with its neighbors. No one could say with any degree of certainty who she was or where she came from. A mercenary? A poor civilian drafted without her consent? An enemy combatant wearing a stolen uniform? Nobody knew. Or if they did, they weren't telling. It was rumored the Dahlia was dead when they brought her in. More disturbing was the suspicion she remained that way until this day.

Her betrayal and escape were matters of sealed government record. The Dahlia was recruited by Lorenzo Medici into his army and swiftly rose to become his trusted right hand. She carried out assassinations and other more dangerous assignments both within the ranks of the Medici Mafia and against those deemed their enemies. To this day, no one knew who lurked beneath that veil. There were no photographs that survived from her days working for the government. Part of this was the result of several Labs being shuttered following the Skullgirl Queen Disaster. A lot of evidence was destroyed to keep it from ever becoming public.

Despite this, Hallow pressed on in what might be considered her vendetta. The members of the Last Hope were not open in discussing their personal history even with one another. As far as all of them were concerned, they were family now, and the past was not as important as the present. Was it possible the girl had lost someone special at the hands of the Dahlia? She never said so, and none of her teammates had any intention of prying. There were numerous leads and hunches that had ultimately petered out. Whether it be names, dates or places, nothing concrete ever seemed to manifest when it came to Black Dahlia. She remained an enduring mystery to all.

This time, however, Hallow seemed certain of herself. She had scoured records detailing soldiers listed as missing or plain unaccounted for from the period around Dahlia's first appearance. This meant thousands of people. The great battles of the past took many lives, and just as many memorials to those lost men and women could be found throughout the Canopy Kingdom. Not to be daunted, Hallow combed through those files and any related info. After numerous failed attempts, she had come across a name that struck a chord in her: Elizabeth Short. Descended from immigrant parents, she was their only daughter. A police report from that period listed her as missing or kidnapped, supposedly at the hands of a boyfriend who also vanished at the same time. Short was only 16 years old. Interviews with neighbors painted a less scandalous picture, alleging that she and her beau had eloped when her parents refused to agree to a marriage between them. The case was never solved. Yet less than a month later, the name 'Elizabeth Short' appeared on an enlistment roll for the military. Whether it was the same person could not be determined from surviving evidence. After basic training and being sent to the front lines, she was never heard from again. Yet Hallow had seized on this with considerable zeal. She seemed convinced that learning more about Short would somehow lead to the Dahlia. No explanation was given as to why, other than a terse, "I can feel it."

So Valentine went along. A firm believer in rationality and scientific investigation, the combat medic was still not blind to other factors even if she didn't afford them the same respect. While everything in the world could be explained given enough time and research, this did not ensure the answer would be something that made any sense. And Hallow had displayed certain presentiments and hunches before based on little to no evidence which still somehow paid off. There might be a touch of the paranormal to it, or even extra-sensory perception. Valentine could find no evidence either way. So she continued to observe and kept all doors of thought open, as it were.

Speaking of doors, the next hour was spent opening them. Results were not varied. Dust, junk, rats and spiders. The contents of this abandoned edifice were woefully familiar in one room after another. No indication of booby traps either. When it was all done, Valentine and Hallow met on the ground floor grimier and sweatier than before, but no more the wiser. Whatever evidence might have been here had long since vanished.

Valentine took out a sponge and used it to mop her brow and cleavage. "Satisfied?" she asked, not bothering to hide her irritation. She did not like wasting time, especially when it meant Christmas having a laugh at her expense.

For her part the dark nurse stood separate from her colleague wrapped in thought. She tapped metal-shod fingers agitatedly together. "We're missing something," Hallow declared with utmost assurance. "There's more to it than this. There's got to be."

Her senior in Last Hope didn't share these sentiments. She took what she firmly intended to be a final look around before calling it quits.

In doing so, however, something caught her eye.

Hallow noticed this at almost the same time. Beneath the lowest arch of the stairs on this floor there was a small door. It did not have a number like all the rest. A shared glance between them was followed by both ninja taking up positions to either side of the portal. Valentine examined the area for signs of tampering but found nothing. At this they opened the door and proceeded down a short flight of steps, alert to any potential dangers.

What they found turned out to be a boiler room, the kind that relied on kerosene for heating by the smell of it. There was also a trace of something black over the floor, indicating perhaps a previously employed method of generating heat. It was a large room, and there were certainly many nooks and crannies in which to hide. Aside from that, nothing stood out.

This did not seem to bother Hallow. Like a small black kitten, she slunk around the room, inspecting every pipe and plate. There was an intensity to this perusal which left Valentine certain if any sign did exist here, it would not escape. Yet after a few minutes that yielded no cries of 'Eureka!' it became clear their last hope had yielded only failure.

Valentine did her part. She wouldn't have it be said that she dragged her feet even on a fool's errand, which was what this was turning out to be. While her diminutive partner searched she went all around the perimeter of the room tapping on walls in search of false panels or signs of hidden doors. Doing so left dark smudges along her previously pristine uniform. Valentine examined these blemishes with a measure of disdain. To her further exasperation the stuff had gotten on her gloves. She held a hand up to the light coming in through a small window near the ceiling of this basement.

Doing so allowed her to see tiny glimmers like diamonds in that black grime. She rubbed her fingers together experimentally. Dust. Coal dust. Used for heating before the kerosene.

Crouching down beneath a big copper pipe, Valentine found herself nose-to-nose with Hallow. The smaller spy pointed, and there indeed near the floor was a small metal hatch in the wall. A compartment for storing coal.

Hallow turned the handle. The opening proved too dark to see inside, and she produced a small stick which she bent in the middle with a snap, resulting in an eerie green phosphorescent glow over her body. The resulting illumination showed the hole to be empty.

"Wait…!"

Before she could stop her, the girl had already crawled inside. Valentine cursed briefly. Following after, she made sure to pull off the latch used to lock the door and take it along, wedging a kunai securely in the jamb to prevent it from shutting behind them.

There was less room inside than she had initially assumed. In fact, this was nothing more than a tunnel sloping slightly upwards. The shapely nurse felt squeezed into this confined space. She caught sight of the nimble Hallow scooting along like a chipmunk without any difficulty. Sometimes it didn't pay to be full-figured. Looks like this chute led to what must be a deposit site outside that it shared with the building next door.

All of a sudden Hallow stopped up ahead. "There's a big crack in the wall. I'm going in."

"Of course you are," Valentine growled moodily. Bad enough to risk getting stuck down here, now she wanted to go somewhere I probably can't squeeze into.

To her mingled relief and annoyance, this did not prove to be the case. The fissure which split the side of the chute proved large enough for her to enter with minimal discomfort. Lumps of coal had fallen in here, making the terrain uncertain. But it was definitely headed downwards. Could this have been the result of a tremor or possibly construction nearby? The walls were rough stone perhaps half a yard wide. It went on for maybe twenty feet in a natural progression downwards, growing higher as it did. At last Valentine came out into a small cavern that was tall enough for her to stand up in with room to spare, measuring two yards across and maybe five feet wide.

The glowstick was propped up on a ledge. Hallow crouched on the rough floor. In front of her was a coffin.

She looked up as Valentine entered. Those grey eyes glowed green, and the plea for help was evident. Her comrade didn't hesitate. She maneuvered over to kneel beside the coffin, slipping a kunai free at the same time. This she handed to Hallow, and after retrieving another dagger, the two of them got to work. The casket was a simple matter of pinewood planks nailed together. The lid had also been sealed shut, but with their combined efforts, they managed to wedge it open enough to get a grip underneath and pry it off.

The two women stared. They had each seen dead bodies before. But nothing remotely like this.

Within the coffin was a corpse. Despite having been down here for what must assuredly be decades, it had not rotted completely. Dried shrunken skin still clung to its bones. Black stringy hair pooled around the head and clung to the scalp. The eye sockets were empty, but the mouth under that shriveled nose hung open as if on a scream. It was wearing an old-fashioned dress.

The girl, for clearly such was the case, had also been cut in half at the waist.

Worse even than this, large metal spikes were pounded through her limbs. Hands, feet, elbows, knees and in-between; all pinned by those brutal instruments. The cloth had rotted around these points, but Valentine could tell all the same…

"She was alive when those went in."

Hallow made no response. The tiny medic was already performing an autopsy in this limited space. She cut away the dress to get a better view of those desiccated remains. Valentine looked on as the dusty corpse was opened. The organs were as well preserved as could be expected under these conditions. Not wanting to interfere, she took a moment to inspect their surroundings. There didn't appear to be any other way in or out of this tomb. Someone must have stumbled upon it and deemed this the perfect place to hide a body. No reason for anybody to go rooting around in here. All the same, why bother with a coffin? Hardly seemed worth the effort. And judging by the layout, they would have had to drag the wood in here one piece at a time and assemble it within, then bring in the body. Or rather, the victim. Still alive, awake, and screaming while that was being done to her.

It was then she saw the shrine. That was the first word that came to mind. In another small crevice against the wall there was a dried handful of flower petals and the melted stub of a candle. Between them, against the back of the alcove, an old-time photograph rested. Reaching over, Valentine carefully plucked it out.

Two people posed in the picture. One of them was an attractive girl with long black hair, perhaps around 13 years old. Hands clasped demurely before her, she had on a pretty striped dress with puffed sleeves and a small smile, dark eyes seeming to shine even in this dimly lit representation.

The person next to her was taller, having to bend down to be on the same level. The clothes they wore were made for men of that era, being a white dress shirt and brown-looking pants with suspenders and a tie. But the body beneath clearly belonged to a woman; even dressed counter-culture, a figure like that stood out plainly. She had an arm draped over the girl's shoulders bringing them closer together. The other hand extended out past the edge of the photograph.

Her face was gone.

There was nothing supernatural about it. By the looks of things, someone had simply pressed a lit cigarette against the film, burning away that part completely. No trace of the head remained. But in a way, it wasn't needed. Because Valentine knew she was looking at the Black Dahlia.

"This is Elizabeth Short." Hallow had finished with her examination and now sat back on her heels. "I'm sure of it. The physical characteristics match, and there's evidence consistent with the ancestry we have on file." The words came out guarded, emotionless, like she was fighting hard not to dwell too much on what she was saying. "There's an engagement ring on her finger." Valentine looked where indicated. Sure enough, a slim band of tarnished silver lingered on one twisted hand. Absorbed in the implications, she nearly missed Hallow's next words. "I also found she was pregnant. About two months along."

Red eyes turned to inspect the point of bisection. It occurred right along the victim's reproductive center. The one who did this was aware of the pregnancy. She wanted to kill mother and child at the same time. So that Elizabeth would fully realize in her last moments of terror what was being done to them both.

"Here." Valentine held out the photograph, which Hallow accepted. She beckoned to bring the light closer. Her partner complied, but as Hallow held up the picture to get a better look, Valentine noticed something. There was writing on the back. Stepping around to join her fellow investigator, the ninja nurse quietly turned the slip of paper so they could both see what was there together.

' _I've watched you since you were born. And I will be there 'til the end.'_

Beneath this was a set of initials.

 _D.L._

Valentine rose and exhaled deeply. "Let's go," she commanded. Hallow nodded absently. Taking a last contemplative look at the murdered Short, she exited the burial chamber with Valentine close behind.

Neither of them said a word as they made it back into the boiler room. Hallow seemed lost in thought, distracted gaze fixed on the photograph still. Her pale partner was unsure what to make of her behavior. After all this time, they finally stumbled across something real. That body had been there for decades, and the person responsible clearly held some sort of emotional connection with it. The brutality of the murder itself spoke to that much. And nailing her down inside the coffin… they didn't want Elizabeth to rise again if a Skullgirl came along and happened to reanimate her body along with any other corpses in the vicinity. The murderer had put great thought into how they wanted things to proceed from here on out. Doubtless she killed Short's fiancé as well, letting her parents assume the two lovers had absconded together, never to be heard from again. It was a cruel thing to do, both to the living and the dead. Afterwards she assumed Elizabeth's name to enter the army, probably intending to escape amid the confusion of battle. Utterly ruthless. Almost brilliant in terms of how wicked it truly was.

This is her handiwork, without a doubt.

Hallow ascended the short stairs leading out of here and was about to open the door. Valentine had just placed her foot on the first step to follow. Because of this, when the door swung towards them, she saw the wire strung across the frame right at her eye level.

Valentine reached her just as Hallow's foot touched the snare. She snatched up the smaller girl and dashed in a blur of speed _ninjutsu_ towards the door leading outside. The explosion happened before she was halfway there, but the ninja nurse was moving fast enough to stay ahead of it. Fire roared behind them so that she could swear it tickled the backs of her arms and legs. The glass around the doorframe actually blew inwards. She powered through the shards, feeling one cut through her mask to slice open her lip. Then she was bursting through the door, flying out into the dusk and flinging them both to the opposite side of the street as behind them the whole building blew sky high.

They lay panting there one atop the other. Valentine craned her head around to take in the conflagration they had narrowly escaped. She then scanned up and down the street. It was deserted. Not so much as a car in sight, and no one lurked atop any buildings. When she was satisfied of this, the young woman turned back to her companion. Hallow lay beneath her, eyes wide and still breathing hard. They could feel one another's hearts pounding. She reached up a hand and touched the side of Valentine's face. "You got cut," she informed her in a dreamy voice muffled by her gas mask.

Valentine ran her tongue along the side of her mouth, wincing at the pain. This would leave a scar without a doubt. However all she said was, "I've had worse."

At this each seemed to realize at the same time the photo was missing. The two of them looked around the brightly lit street but saw no sign of it. Smoke billowed behind them as the apartment complex completely collapsed in on itself with a roar. Sparks flew up in a rush. The Last Hope agents knew all evidence of Elizabeth Short's murder was being consumed by those ravenous flames.

Hallow sighed. "I messed up. I'll tell Christmas it was all my fault."

"Maybe." Valentine got to her knees, straddling the smaller nurse. "Or maybe we were never here and a building's old boiler exploded. Hardly a reason to get excited."

She considered this. "Okay. Thanks, Val."

They observed the blaze for a while longer before leaving. Regardless of the end result, some new information had come to light. And this could lead to big things in the future. For her part, Valentine did not consider it a wasted evening. Hallow would just have to pay her back with some first aid and keeping her own mouth shut. It would have to be enough.

* * *

"Didn't you say you already checked the place for traps?"

"Yes." Valentine accepted a refill, listening to the audience applaud as the singer onstage took her bows. "It was put there after we went in."

Cat considered this assertion for a moment. That might just be the rationale of a person not inclined to admitting their mistakes. However it was hardly the most important element of the story. She leaned forward in her seat, gripping the railing of the bar eagerly. "Did you do any research into the initials?"

"Of course." The crimson-eyed medic stirred her drink with a tiny red plastic sword, seemingly absorbed by the sight and sound of swirling liquor. "It wasn't easy. A great deal of public records from that era were lost or misplaced thanks to the wars. But eventually we came across a listing of the neighborhood that included all their residents. Only one name in a twenty-year period around the time matched: Doris Leechborn."

An intense excitement seized Cat in its grip. "D.L.!" she breathed triumphantly. _Dahlia!_

"Don't bother." Beside her Valentine knocked back the booze and set it down with a clink. "We already checked. It's just an alias. 'Doris Leechborn' was the name of a character in one of those young-girl-detective novel series that were popular at the turn of the century. A wealthy heiress who murders her husband and is found out by the quick-witted heroine Annie Estrella. Juvenile tripe, in my opinion."

"It's something," Cat insisted. "More solid than I've found so far." Then a thought occurred to her. "You say the story's from almost a hundred years ago?" She rubbed her arms, which had become prickly with goosebumps. "How old _is_ she?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." The busty agent fell silent then, gazing into the depths of her glass at the ice cubes smoothed and rounded by alcohol. Though having been drinking heavily most of the evening, she seemed none the worse for wear. In fact, when Valentine stood up next, there was not even a trace of imbalance to mark her as drunk.

Cat was too preoccupied to notice. If it was the sort of novella read by children of that period, it could serve as a clue to the Dahlia's approximate age. No explanation for how someone approaching their centennial could accomplish what she had, but that was only one of the mysteries lurking about the woman. Only then did she notice Valentine was preparing to depart. "You're leaving?"

"I've got a shift tonight." The beautiful woman placed a few bills on the bar which might have come from Cat's purse. She then reached down and rested her fingers on Casandra's shoulders, rubbing her thumbs lightly over the subclavian arteries as though feeling her pulse. The hand which had held her drink the whole evening was ice-cold. It made Cat shiver. Valentine noticed and gave an amused chuckle. "You should probably turn in as well. Have a good think about what you're doing. Up until now, you've managed to stay under people's radars. But that could change very fast."

This statement, however friendly it might be intended, did nothing to dampen Cat's ardor. "I can't stop now," she insisted. "If I can find just one thing about her that's real, it could be what's needed to end the myth of the Black Dahlia for good."

Valentine considered her sitting there, all hot-blooded determination and sparkling eyes. That split lip twitched in what might have been a smile. Then her face grew cold. When she leaned down to fix Cat with a steely look, it automatically made her remember the knife that had been held to her throat this very evening.

"I'm a rationalist. I always look to find the reason why things are happening. But we live in a world where Skullgirls are born every decade. Maybe the Dahlia set up sensors throughout the building to alert her if anyone went inside. Maybe she has spies in the government who told her someone was snooping around that location." The woman in white leaned in closer. "Or maybe she just _knew._ It doesn't have to be inexplicable to be scary. Any of those options is disturbing enough. But if you do learn about her past, don't be surprised if a knock comes at your door a minute later."

Cat managed to look right back without flinching. "I don't know when she came into this world, but she's our problem now. You, me and everybody in this city. Maybe this whole planet. We can't be afraid of monsters under the bed anymore."

"Never say die, hmm?" This time she couldn't hide a wince, and Valentine grinned. "At any rate, watch your step, Socorra. Maybe you really will give succor to the masses. Just don't get careless, or forget who owns this hotel." She patted her bare knee in a slightly condescending fashion. "I'd finish your drink quick, if I were you. And don't be ashamed if you find yourself checking under the bed tonight. Remember what I said: fear _can_ kill."

At this the lovely lady turned and walked away with heels clicking on the polished floor. Cat watched her go, noticing the smooth sway of hips and the way muscles in her exposed back moved in time. Several other patrons did the same, but none of them made any attempt to stop Valentine as they had her. Maybe they knew better by now. The guy from before seemed to have left at some point. A new singer had come onstage and the band was warming up. The allure of the Salt Cellar was only getting started.

Remembering that last warning, Casandra gulped down her remaining scotch and left enough money to cover the tab before grabbing her clutch and skipping out herself. She had forgotten to ask Valentine if there was any way to contact her in the future. There might still be a chance to share a ride down together. Who knows what might happen from there? But by the time she reached the elevator it was already proceeding towards the lower floors. So much for a more in-depth interview.

When the lift came back up, she got on right as the music started.

" _They say you never hear the one that gets you/ A bullet to the heart feels just like love…"_

Cat was grateful she didn't hear what came next.

* * *

A cab ride home seemed like the best option. When she finally made it back to her apartment building, Casandra had plenty of time to think about everything said tonight. Maybe it was nerves, but she found herself looking around the street as she got out of the cab. Every stranger could be a Medici informant or a hitman waiting to kill her. She was slightly embarrassed at how quickly she made for the front door, and even more so at how much time it took to get her key in the lock. Only when she got inside and slammed the door behind her did she feel even a trifle safe.

Rather than riding in the elevator, she decided to walk the few floors up. By the third landing her feet were regretting this decision and she had to stop and take her shoes off. Definitely not made for long distances. Massaging her instep, the reporter sat down and reflected on this evening. It was a stroke of good fortune Valentine proved to be an agent of the government and not a Medici Mafia member. That had been a gutsy move, come to think of it, seeking her out. I had a hunch she wasn't really the Dahlia. Wouldn't it have been scary if she was?

Cat paused. Of course, if she were Black Dahlia, how would I know it? Not like I have any idea what she looks like under that mask. Nobody does. Valentine never outright confirmed she worked for the government. And she never denied being the Dahlia…

But no. That's silly. C'mon, Scaredy-Cat, aren't you forgetting? Black Dahlia's a cyborg. Even without the mask, she's missing her right arm and both legs. And Valentine was sporting all her limbs. You got a nice long look at them tonight. So there's no way…

She started climbing again. But her mind was working, puzzling things over.

What if those were prosthetics? And cosmetics to cover them up? She was very careful not to touch me with them. At least until the end… and then her right hand felt so cold… so cold, I thought it was because of the ice in her glass. Why didn't I realize it before? She was so horribly _cold_ …

At last the anxious reporter reached the door to her apartment. The hall was empty, but her heart was pounding all the same. She fumbled with the keys only to drop them, cursing. At last she managed to get the door open and slid gratefully inside, closing it and throwing the deadbolt just to make sure.

Heaving a relieved sigh, Casandra turned around in the darkened apartment. It was then she saw the person sitting in the chair across from her.

She froze, a scream choking to death inside her mouth. It's just Barb! My roommate! She fell asleep out here! No, wait, it's one of those stupid mannequins she practices on! She left it in the chair again, it's not the first time that freaked me out, dammit, I _hate it_ when she does that!

The seated figure did not move.

Say something, Scaredy-Cat. Don't just stand there like an idiot. Go like, 'Hey, Barb!' and that'll be that. Nothing to be afraid of. Even if it's only a stupid dummy. You're not a little kid. There's no monster waiting to eat you. If there was, she would have killed you already by now. That's not the Dahlia. It's just some old clothes and a mannequin. So move. Walk right by it. You're not afraid. It's just a story. It can't hurt you. Don't give in to fear. Don't be scared of the witch under the bed. Just be brave.

Half an hour later, Cat still hadn't moved.

 _ **FIN.**_


	2. Swimming with Sharks

A puddle in the street from last night's rain reflected the blue morning sky as perfectly as a mirror. This illusion was broken when the wheels of a speeding scooter went splashing right through it, sending up a wave of water to either side.

Traffic wasn't an issue this early in the morning, but all the same, the driver opted to zip down an alley. Not because it would get her to her destination faster, but simply to throw off any pursuers. The girl grinned as she revved the engine, ducking down over the handlebars. She could practically hear bullets whizzing past her ears. Weaving from side to side in an attempt to make a more difficult target, the determined courier threw caution to the wind and went full throttle towards the mouth of the alley. This was so exciting!

A dark form scampered out into her path. She gave a yelp and swerved sharply to avoid it, narrowly missing a row of trash cans on her way by. The teen turned her head around and saw the cause of this near-accident now crouched on a first floor windowsill hissing at her accusingly.

"Sorry!" Minette waved as she drove on. The cat merely looked away in blatant refusal to make amends. Oh, well. That'll teach me to keep my head in the game. With that the fish-girl sped on her way.

Minette loved the smell of the city after a rainstorm, all hot and wet. Like everything was washed clean. It made her feel as much at home as underwater. On top of that, despite being so early in the morning, the colorful district of Little Innsmouth was already alive with sights and smells. Clamoring market sellers set up their stalls or popped heads above the canals before climbing onto dry land. Some of them recognized her and called out as she went buzzing past. Minette waved cheerfully in return. No time to stop and chat. She was on an assignment, and somewhere out there, her clients were waiting.

 _Nadia Fortune draped an arm around her eager admirer's shoulders. The cat-burglar looked shiftily to either side before leaning over to whisper in a conspiratorial hush. "We're aiming for the big leagues tonight, kid! They'll never know what hit 'em. I can't let the cat out of the bag, but when we pull this off, we'll be sitting purr-itty! Gonna need a big breakfast tomorrow when it's done. Don't be late!"_

" _I won't!" Minette replied with fervent assurance. "You can count on me! Good luck!"_

" _Don't need it." Grinning confidently, the feral flicked the large golden bell around her neck._

* _Ding-a-ling-ding_ *

Excitement at this prospect left Minette wound up tight in anticipation. Another puddle presented itself like a target in the street which she aimed for unerringly. The turquoise-skinned teen stuck her feet out and whooped with glee as she went through it, not caring that she got her pant cuffs soaked. Unlike humans, Dagonians didn't mind the feel of wet clothes. And she was proud of her heritage no matter what anyone had to say on the subject. Minette had a lot to look forward to, more than most girls her age. Dad had finally agreed to let her take a job as a way to get out in the world. He knew she could be a bit naïve ( _A fish out of water! Nadia would love it!_ ) and this would serve to provide her with some life experience. Admittedly, Yu Wan's restaurant wasn't the first place a starry-eyed young sea-maiden could hope to find work. But soon enough the clientele proved more dazzling than she could ever have hoped for.

Turns out that small, steamy dive was a haunt of the notorious Fishbone Gang. Unnerved at first by the rough look of such wanted criminals, Minette soon learned that their reputations, while well deserved, did not tell the whole story. The crew had big hearts and quickly welcomed the newcomer into their circle of friends, of whom there were many as it turned out. Rather than cold-blooded scoundrels, this thieving lot was more like something out of legends, a five-man gang of merry men (and women) who contributed a share of their pickings to the community in which they lived. This served to engender a sense of camaraderie throughout the neighborhood of Little Innsmouth, making its citizens loath to cooperate whenever the police came calling. Nobody was about to rat out the Fishbone Gang.

Though Dad would pitch a fit if she even mentioned it, Minette liked to think of herself as an honorary member of the Gang. Whenever she delivered their orders after a successful heist, the waitress liked to pretend she was being chased by angry Mafioso or crooked cops, dodging into alleys to avoid pursuit and checking out any potential pursuers in her rear-view mirror. The rush made Minette feel invincible. Like nothing could scare her. Like she couldn't be caught and the world was her oyster!

Soon enough the take-out girl arrived at the agreed-upon drop-off site. In her delivery outfit of form-fitting blue-jeans, shiny red jacket and a baseball cap with the restaurant's logo printed on it, she set up the kickstand and hopped off to have a look around. Warehouses and canneries stretched along the narrow road. This was the fish district, after all, and you could smell it. Stomach-churning for more reasons than one in her case. The building in front of her had been abandoned years ago by the look of it. A perfect hideout for the Fishbones to lay low until the heat was off.

Minette checked the address scrawled on a scrap of notebook paper one more time to be sure. Yup; _1937 Charles Dexter Rawd_. Yu Wan still had a bit of trouble with human spelling. But this was the place. She grabbed the straps of several plastic bags on her scooter's seat-basket. Still riding a 'totally spy' high, Minette looked warily up and down the street. There was no one around. With a decidedly more animated step she skipped over to a small door on the folded aluminum side of the building and knocked. Maybe Nadia will answer it? She always craved her favorite food after a successful heist.

A latch was thrown, and the door opened. "Yeah?"

Minette blinked. The human who looked down at her was a stranger; thin, maybe only a few years older than she was, with curly blonde hair and an angular sharp face. There was a wine-splotch birthmark on his right cheek. The dark eyes above it were mistrustful. They watched the small girl as though expecting her to make a remark about him.

Too surprised at this unexpected appearance to think properly, she could only stammer, "D… delivery, sir."

He squinted, taking in her getup and the bags of still-warm takeout. "Just leave it there." And he began to shut the door.

In a panic Minette heard herself blurt out, "Wait, I haven't been paid yet!"

About to close, the gap hesitated, then opened wide. Once more that menacing face studied her from head to toe. He wore a pinstripe mauve shirt with black slacks, white shoes and a canary yellow tie. There was something cheap about his clothes. Plus the fact it looked like he got dressed in the dark. After a bit of thinking that seemed to cost him more than it should, he stepped back and indicated for her to come inside.

When Minette hesitated, the man grimaced in frustration. "You want your money? You gotta come get it."

That was the wrong move. Even someone not so worldly like her could see that. But Minette had taken the time to think. And she wanted to know what might be going on here. Nadia and the others could be in trouble. If so, this might be an opportunity to help them out before things got bad.

That sense of fearless bravado from before could no longer be found. Instead she slunk nervously into the abandoned factory, gripping the bags in preparation to swing them at him if necessary. The guy locked the door once more, and Minette had to wonder if that was the only way out. He then strode by without a word, clearly expecting her to follow. After a moment in which she strove to calm her racing heart, the Dagonian did so.

They walked down a short corridor lit by a single bare yellow lightbulb. Another door at the end had an old-fashioned punch-card setup beside it. Her threatening guide knocked on the glass windowpane, and when it opened, he proceeded in. Minette did the same.

As soon as she did the door closed quickly and quietly behind her. She flinched and looked around nervously. They were in a huge room that was clearly the main area for a canning business. Disused equipment had been left to rust alongside conveyor belts. Chains hung from the ceiling. The reek of fish guts was everywhere here, having soaked in over long years.

The goon from before had now been joined by about twenty men. Whereas he had been intimidating, this lot was downright scary. Despite differences in age, dress and heritage, they all shared an impression of cold cruelty in the way they eyed her. Like it wouldn't take much to convince them she was just another catch of the day ready to have her head chopped off and guts pulled out. None of them said a word. All alone, surrounded by these eerie silent figures, Minette could do nothing but stand there shivering.

One of the men broke away from the rest and came marching over as her guide approached. Unlike the others, this fellow looked angry. Big and beefy with short dark hair, he drew to a halt before the skinny tough. Black eyes flashed over to a cowering Minette for a moment before settling back on him. "What the hell is this?" he demanded.

Skinny stuffed his hands in his pockets and scowled. "She knocked on the door. I let her in. Thought maybe she might know something."

A few chuckles came from the assembled men. _"Struppiau,"_ someone clearly muttered. In response the target of their disdain looked wildly all around, as if daring whoever had spoken to step forward and proclaim himself. None of the watchers proved interested in taking up his challenge, however.

His accuser swore. _"Sanctissima!"_ He ducked his head, hands clasping tightly at the nape of his neck before looking up. "Rodolpho, Papa always said you were _stupido_ , but I never agreed with him until _right now!"_

"I ain't stupid!" the one called Rodolpho declared indignantly. "She wouldn't leave! What was I s'posed to do, huh?"

"She's a flippin' _kid!_ What the hell were you thinking, letting her in here?!"

"Yo, Marco!" another man called out. "Your little brother got a thing for gill-girls, does he?"

"You a wide-mouth bass, princess?" someone else leered at her. "How much you suppose you can fit in there?"

This brought a round of laughter. Minette glanced about in rising dread. There was no sign of the Fishbone Gang anywhere. Did I really get the wrong address? Whatever the case, this right here is bad news for sure. "Um, excuse me?" she piped up, hefting the sacks to redistribute their weight. They were feeling heavier by the second, enough to make her shoulders ache. "Is anyone going to pay for this? Because if not… I should be going."

More unsettling laughter followed. The only ones not having a good time were Rodolpho and Marco. The latter continued to glare at his little brother. As he did, however, his gaze flickered off to one side, where a manager's office stood separate from the cannery floor. The door was shut and the blinds were drawn, but a light was on inside. As they watched, someone cracked the slats open and looked out, probably to see what might be causing such a commotion.

When he saw this, Marco's face twitched. He grabbed Rodolpho by the arm and fixed him with a furious stare. "You go wait by the car and don't move, got it?" He pointed over to a large delivery gate in the side of the building where several identical black sedans were parked. "I did not bring you into this just so you could throw it all away over some _ragazza!"_

His slender subordinate shook himself free but did as he was told. More catcalls followed in his wake, along with the word ' _Rimbambito'_ which sounded like a nickname. At this the blinds fell down once more.

Minette's concern ratcheted up a notch when Marco made a peremptory gesture. For all their disdain towards his brother, apparently the elder sibling held a degree of authority among this crew, as two men detached from the rest without question to join him. All three came stalking towards her. The menace exuded by Rodolpho was nothing compared to this. More than her arms were trembling as they drew to a halt before her, and Minette stared up at them from under the brim of her baseball cap, fearing the worst.

"What do you want?" Marco demanded softly.

"I'm… the… d-delivery girl," she warbled in response. Tears were gathering in her large violet eyes. "We g-g-got an… order for here."

At this he lifted an eyebrow. The team boss looked to his flunkies and gave a quick nod in her direction. They moved towards her, and Minette was just about to scream, when all of a sudden she felt the plastic bags snatched roughly away. The goons then set them down and started going through the contents, pulling out white paper cartons and opening them to grimace at the sight of fried eel with noodles and sweet silver fungus soup. Minette watched them anxiously, a certain professional pride almost causing her to object to this rough treatment of her livelihood. Yu Wan put a lot of effort into that!

From the corner of her eye she noticed Rodolpho edging away from the cars and closer to them. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he looked cross and irritable. Maybe even a bit uneasy, for he glanced at her as though it had finally occurred to him bringing Minette here had put her in danger. Marco noticed and gave his brother a look that made him stop moving. He then focused on her. "You live around here?"

She gave a miserable nod.

His lips pursed tightly as he glanced over at his underlings busy with their tasks. "Got any family?"

Why was he asking all these questions? Minette could barely squeak out a weak, "Yes…"

One of the men finished his inspection and looked back to Marco, shaking his head no. The other took a little longer, rifling through the contents of Nadia's sack in search of something. But eventually he too gave a sign that the search proved fruitless.

Marco appeared to visibly relax at this. He reached into his jacket pocket, and Minette went rigid with fear. But all he pulled out was a money clip holding a wad of bills. He licked his finger and peeled off a few, holding them out to her. "Take it and get lost." At the same time he turned to the pair of thugs. "And get rid of that stuff, it stinks worse than anything in here."

Both nodded. Unthinkingly Minette reached up for the proffered payment. The goons stood. As they did, a handle slipped free from one man's hands. The plastic bag dropped to the floor, and suddenly oranges were rolling all over the place.

"Hey!" Minette immediately dropped to her knees and tried to catch as many as possible. Those were Nadia's favorite! They can't just throw them away! She was so intent on rescuing the prized foodstuffs she failed to notice Rodolpho come running forward only to step on a rolling orange and fall flat on his face. People were laughing and cursing, some doing the same as her while others just enjoyed the show.

Amidst all this ruckus, few noticed the door to the office swing open.

Minette was not one of them. She had her arms full of citrus fruits and was crawling towards another one, dropping several in the process. So upset was she by this it did not occur to her when all sound in the room abruptly died.

The girl reached for an escaping orange. Before she could snag it, the globe rolled right into the foot of someone in front of her.

"What do we have here? A fish out of water?"

Surprised, the Dagonian looked up. At first all she saw was a big black leather apron slick with different types of blood. There came a snap as a long rubber glove was peeled off one hand. The other followed suit, the only difference being that the arm revealed proved to be mechanical. Cold steel fingers flexed in an elegant approximation of living flesh. And behind a veil, someone smiled.

Minette suddenly realized she was on her knees before Black Dahlia.

The oranges she held fell to the floor unnoticed.

In no apparent hurry, Dahlia passed her gloves off to a man who came up behind her. She undid the drawstrings of her apron, drawing the loop carefully overhead so as not to disturb her feathered pillbox hat before handing this off as well. Now attired in a purple evening gown, she accepted a white half-cape with a doily design and draped it over her shoulders.

"Well?" she asked casually to no one in particular.

Marco snapped to attention behind the paralyzed Minette. He stepped forward quickly, swallowing in a dry throat. No one else made any move to join him, distancing themselves as much as possible. Even his brother Rodolopho stood frozen, casting about in distress as though in search of help. The others didn't even meet his eye. "Sorry, Boss," the elder brother stated in as steady a voice as possible. "This kid showed up out of nowhere. We didn't want to bother you while you were… working."

"Hmm." Dahlia said nothing more. Through her featureless mask, she continued to watch the trembling child in front of her, arms crossed without any sign of being interested in anything else.

The target of her attention couldn't even move a muscle. Minette had thought she had been afraid before. This went far beyond it. No word could describe how bad this felt. She was light-headed and in danger from passing out. Minette wanted to die, she was so scared.

"She's clean!"

Virtually every head in the room snapped around at this. Even Minette tore herself away from that arresting gaze, so surprised was she at the realization of who spoke. Standing removed from the rest, Rodolpho added, "We already searched her, Boss! She didn't have it on her. I don't think she's with them, y'know?"

The colorful clown clammed up then. He was holding an orange for some reason, like maybe he intended to throw it. Across the way Marco's face was an agony of disbelief and fury. Rodolpho didn't acknowledge his elder's clearly horrified reaction at such foolishness on his part. He stood there stiffly, trembling and flicking glances between Minette and the Dahlia.

Out of all of them, only the Medici assassin had not responded in any way to his outburst. Black Dahlia continued to regard the tiny waif at her feet. Eventually, though, she slowly crouched down. Several people tensed as she came to Minette's eye level, Marco and Rodolpho among them. Minette heard her move and spun back around, immediately becoming transfixed again by the mere sight of the barely discernible face behind the veil.

A mechanical arm reached out. The kid whimpered. Moments later, Dahlia had picked up an orange. She held the thick-skinned fruit poised atop those deadly strong fingers.

"Did you look everywhere?" she asked lightly.

Almost as one, the mobsters realized what she meant. Anyone watching might have found it funny at how fast all those hardened toughs fell scrambling to pick up oranges and start peeling them open feverishly. Even Marco got busy in a hurry, purposefully not looking at the two women as he did.

Dahlia plucked the cap off the girl's head while the men were preoccupied, allowing fins to sprout up like spring shoots of an exotic black and orange flower. Her smile might have grown bigger then. Minette couldn't tell. Placing the hat off to one side, she laced her arms over her knees and leaned forward, balancing effortlessly on high-heeled shoes. "Got a name?"

Those violet and yellow eyes were so big they reflected the assassin in them. "Minette," she heard someone whisper, too scared to think.

Dahlia cocked her head slightly as though committing this to memory. Hidden lips might have moved then, shaping the name silently, before speaking once more. "Maybe you can help us, Minette. We're looking for something."

The cybernetic arm rose, and for a heart-stopping moment she was certain Black Dahlia meant to take off her own hat as well, mask and all. The prospect almost caused the traumatized teen to start crying for some reason. Instead from the tip of one finger there came sliding out an angled razor blade, like a slim X-acto knife. Minette moaned when she saw it, however all the Dahlia did with this clearly lethal implement was to begin carving the skin of the orange.

"It resembles a blood-red sphere," she continued in a casual vein. Pieces of peel fell to the ground. "About the size…" one glowing white eye flickered to meet Minette's, "…of a human heart."

The naked fruit was now held in the palm of her hand. Pale fingers squeezed ever so gently.

"Have you seen it?"

Behind Dahlia, some impassive-faced men emerged unobtrusively from the office hauling big black garbage bags. They were obviously heavy judging by the way the hoods struggled on their way over towards the cars, where the trunks had been popped open.

Minette hardly noticed this. She stared at that juicy round orb. It had never occurred to her before how much they really did resemble hearts, with their white veins and distinct sections. The fruit seemed to pulse fearfully in the Dahlia's clutches. It's… alive.

The world started spinning around her, and Minette knew she was about to pass out. Not now. Please…

But it was… too la…

At that moment one of the goons deposited his bag in the trunk with a grunt.

* _Ding-a-ling-ding_ *

A familiar chime swept away impending unconsciousness. Minette blinked several times as she came back to reality. Her head whipped around to locate the source of this musical interlude. Dahlia did the same. Together they stared at that incongruous black sack.

It came from there, Minette thought. I know it.

Oh…

"No…"

Slowly the Dagonian's head came around to stare at the inhuman creature before her. Black Dahlia returned the look. She smiled. Her fist closed, slowly crushing the orange until it was reduced to nothing more than wet messy pulp. Juice gushed out between her fingers and fell dripping between them.

The ruined fruit dropped to the ground. Still smiling playfully, the murderess lifted her index finger and held it before those trembling blue lips. A single drop of juice dangled from it.

"Are you sure?" she asked gently.

That abominable touch drew closer. Horrified, Minette realized she lacked the strength to even shut her mouth. Her eyelids slid closed, but this was no help. Tears slipped down both cheeks. Nadia… help!

"Boss!"

Her eyes opened. Dazed and sick to her stomach, Minette looked over to find Rodolpho standing a few feet off. He was shaking, his face almost as blue as her own. For only an instant the girl and the man gazed at one another. It seemed neither was certain what might be about to happen.

"We're done! I mean…" Rodolpho swallowed, clearly ill at ease. He turned back to the Dahlia. "We didn't find nothin'. It ain't here. Maybe we should get goin'? Y'know, before more people start showing up."

Was he… trying to help her? Minette couldn't believe it. Behind him, Marco had turned around with a half-peeled orange held in both hands. His face was completely white. He stared at his reckless little brother incredulously. Her heart clenched at what she saw in his features. The rest of the crew watched this display in a resigned fashion. There was no sympathy to be found in their expressions. Only fear at what might come next.

The mistress of this blood-soaked domain turned her head to regard the gangly youth directly. His voice failed him at this point.

Then she looked back at the girl.

"You have a point."

Dahlia retrieved the baseball cap and settled it atop Minette's fins. She stood up. From beneath her cape the frightening figure produced nothing more dangerous than a white handkerchief which she used to wipe her hand clean.

"We've finished our business here," the Dahlia stated crisply. "Pack up. Time to go."

Her henchmen practically leapt to obey. The scattered foodstuffs were retrieved and deposited in the cars. Trunks slammed shut on their gruesome contents. The delivery gate was opened, allowing bright sunlight and fresh air to come spilling inside. One man came over to take the soiled handkerchief and hand their leader a pair of white opera gloves which she slid on languorously. Dahlia did not so much as glance in Minette's direction during this procedure. But when she was finished…

"Rodolpho."

Halfway to a car, the youth froze. He turned back around.

"Ride with me," Dahlia stated. She proceeded towards where a door was being held open for her. "You can sit up front."

Her heels clicked against the stained stone floor on the way past a stunned Rodolpho. He looked over towards Marco, who stared right back, aghast.

Black Dahlia settled in the back seat. The door shut behind her, and the boy jumped when he heard this. Numbly he then turned and stumbled over to the same car. He opened the front passenger side, pausing a moment to look back at his brother. The birthmark on his cheek stood out luridly against bloodless skin. As if realizing he was holding up the show, Rodolpho slipped inside. The door closed loudly behind him like a coffin lid slamming shut. Moments later the long black car growled to life and peeled slowly away.

Marco saw Minette watching him with a frightened expression. Briefly a spasm of rage passed through his frame, as though he blamed her for all this and was about to leap forward and punish the helpless girl. Then the big man rushed over towards an idling vehicle and pounded on the roof. "Go, go, go!" he screamed, wrenching open the door and flinging himself inside. Briefly she heard him exclaim, "Trinity help me, if she lays a finger on my brother, I'll…!"

And then the car sped off.

Minette looked around uncertainly. She noticed the open office door and shuddered. Nothing could make her go inside that room, no matter what she might find. Instead the girl stood up and stumbled towards the exit. It had felt like hours in there, but when she got outside, the morning air still smelled of rain. She got on her scooter and drove off.

* * *

Yu Wan was startled when Minette came bursting into the restaurant and ran straight over to bury herself in his broad chest sobbing. He couldn't get a word out of her. The few customers around were as deeply perplexed as he was. Eventually he led her into a back room that served as his office and managed to get her to lie down on a couch. Covering the weeping child with a blanket, he turned the lights off and went back to the kitchen. There would be time to learn what happened later.

Minette wasn't sure when she fell asleep or how long it lasted. Upon waking it took a while to remember where she was. As she sat in the messy room surrounded by filing cabinets and old pinup calendars on the wall, everything came back to her. She cried for a good ten minutes until Yu Wan noticed and came in. The sushi chef coaxed her into the restaurant proper with the promise of a traditional _kuay namuan_ dish, bananas cooked in coconut milk. It happened to be one of Minette's favorites, and in this way she was convinced to rejoin the world.

Desolate, the waitress sat in a booth staring sadly at her untouched repast. Yu Wan had been forced to wait on the customers himself as a result of her absence all day. This only served to make her feel worse. He closed up shop and turned out the lights a few minutes ago, leaving her in the dark as he went in back to clean up. It was nighttime outside, the red lights of the neon signs leaking into the darkened greasy spoon and lending everything a subdued crimson cast.

Minette shuddered. Until now, it had never occurred to her what a horrible world they lived in. Hard to believe just this morning she had been living in a fantasy of heroic thieves and bloodless escapades. The real world was different. It was terrifying, and murderous, and sometime soon she would have to walk out the front door and face it once again.

* _Ding-a-ling_ *

Hope roared anew in her heart, until she realized this was nothing more than the bell to the front door. Minette peered over the edge of her booth. "Excuse me, we're clo–"

Framed against the blood-stained night there stood a dark figure in a trenchcoat. Glowing eyes burned like lamps in its head. Panic threatened to choke the girl, as her first impulse was that this was the Dahlia come to get her. Before she could scream, the mysterious intruder reached over and flicked on the lights.

"That's better! Cats can see in the dark… we just see a whole lot of dark."

Minette couldn't believe her eyes. After a while she managed to stand up very slowly. "Nadia?"

In response the feral felon smirked and flicked her bell. * _Ding-a-ling-ding_ * "Hope I didn't cat-ch you cat-napping, kid!"

Swaying on her feet for a moment, an overjoyed Minette sprang forward and slammed into her hero in a big hug. "OH, NADIA! You're alive!"

*BONK*

Something hit the floor behind her. When the puzzled waitress turned around, she saw Miss Fortune's head lying on the linoleum.

"Dangit!" the cat burglar's eyes swiveled in irritation. "This is gonna take some getting used to." Then her face brightened. "Oh, I know! It just means I need to keep my head in the game!" She looked over at Minette. "Good one, nyah?"

Unfortunately, the girl had already passed clean out.

 _To be continued…_


	3. The Last Skullgirl

" _Filia?"_

The girl shot upright with arms flailing in panic. She knew only terror, striking madly at the last thing she remembered before…

" _Filia!"_

Next thing she knew a pair of hands seized her wrists to hold on tight. Panting, the terrified teen froze, staring in front of her at what turned out to be no more than a rock wall. She was inside a rough-hewn alcove lying on a blanket. Light came from an oil lamp set on the ground beside her. When Filia turned her head it was to find Squigly gazing at her anxiously with Leviathan sprouting from her skull.

"Oh, Squigly!" she gasped.

The two girls flew into each other's arms then. Their respective Parasites hovered overhead offering one another the same worried looks. Filia couldn't bring herself to speak. What she needed more than anything was this right here; a moment without being forced to think about her situation. A chance to feel safe, for what might be the very last time. Because if she thought about it too much… if Squigly was still with them, that could only mean the Skull Heart…

Oh, mercy.

"Tell me it's not true," Filia whispered with her cheek pressed to the zombie soprano's cold flesh.

The fingers of Squigly's skeletal hand dug down convulsively.

" _It's true,"_ that ghostly voice flitted through her mind. _"She has become the Skullgirl."_

* * *

Less than a year after the fall of Bloody Marie, the Skull Heart resurfaced. Back then no one could say for sure whether or not that maddening relic had been destroyed once again along with its previous wielder or simply passed to another candidate. The answer was made clear with the appearance of a new Skullgirl: Nurse Valentine, a former minion of Marie, now known as Heartsease Val. The joke was, 'More like Heart- _cease_.' No one thought it particularly clever.

As far as Skullgirl rampages went, this one would normally not have been ranked very high. The dead rose, for certain, Sienna Contiello among them. Canopolis issued a nationwide emergency, alerting its neighbors of the Skullgirl's resurgence. Nearly a month afterwards, little had happened. Pockets of the undead were located and destroyed, however no sign of their mistress emerged. The media was awash with rumors; Heartsease was building up her forces elsewhere for a major push. Perhaps the Gigans or Chess Kingdom had allied with the Skullgirl and were preparing to launch an assault that would wipe out the Canopy Kingdom in its entirety? Some even went so far as to suggest the royal family had struck a deal with Heartsease to forestall such an assault. Those voices were quickly silenced. All were left to wonder what fresh hell the latest Skullgirl had in store for them.

Then it happened. Heartsease Val appeared in Canopolis itself and took control of the medical district with her ghastly crew. There she performed unspeakable atrocities upon the helpless patients and their loved ones. All those intent on battling the Skullgirl for whatever reason converged on the capital. The final battle took place in the cavernous confines of the House of Healing, a vast medical complex now overrun by the undead and newly christened as Mortuary del Mundo. Heartsease Val found herself faced with the combined if not conjoined forces of Black Egrets, Medici Mafia, and Anti-Skullgirl Labs, all intent on her destruction and eager to get their hands on the Skull Heart before anyone else.

The whole thing proved to be a death trap. Val was prepared for their attack, her training and familiarity with both military and shadow organizations serving her well. The result was a slaughter. Those who died in the ensuing mayhem rose instantly to become members of Val's army, bolstering her ranks even further.

With any organized assault blunted, the independents saw a chance to throw their hats into the fray. Filia and Squigly were among them, having come late to the battle. Alongside others, they fought their way through the Mortuary, finally confronting the horror house's mistress within the very depths of her abode, which Heartsease humorously referred to as her Operation Center. Here the results of her 'experiments' came to the fore. Evil entered a new stage then. Heartsease Val was a monster, without a doubt. But she actually apologized for it in the end.

Or at least, she did to Carol.

Carol… or rather, Painwheel ended it. Filia had been lying only a few feet away, dazed by a blow from one of the abominations and able only to watch as her former classmate sought to save her. She remembered shivering while Painwheel howled uncontrollably, the corded death blade from her spine wrapped around both her and Heartsease, spikes from within her mutilated body pinning the two women together as the tortured science experiment furiously headbutted the blazing blue skull which was now her tormentor's hideous face over and over again.

' _I'm sorry… for hurting you…'_

Filia clearly heard these words as Carol's bleeding features smashed the Skullgirl's head into fragments of bone. That once alluring body collapsed in an inferno of smoke and fire. When it cleared, the Skull Heart hung in the air, whispering its compelling promise to all present.

It should have been the end right there. Painwheel was just drawing back her Buer Drive to slice the Heart apart. But she hesitated, looking past it to where Filia still lay watching. Their red eyes met. In that moment Filia felt certain she knew what Carol would have wished for.

She never got the chance, as a bullet blew her brains out.

What happened next wasn't quite clear to Filia. She remembered rushing towards Carol's corpse screaming as it crumpled to the ground and holding the dead body in her arms while she wept. She remembered how peaceful that scarred, twisted face had seemed as it lay in repose. And most of all, she remembered Black Dahlia swooping in to seize the Skull Heart in her hand.

It was like some awful dream. They were so close Filia had only to stretch out an arm to touch her. For once the Medici enforcer didn't pay any attention to her favorite victim. Didn't even acknowledge Filia's existence in any way. Her hidden face focused entirely on the treasure she held in her grasp, a smile evident in the way her voice rang out above the fray.

"SKULL HEART!" the Dahlia cried. "I wish… _to grant YOUR wish!"_

Hearing her speak broke whatever spell had gripped Filia. She and Samson surged up to attack the monster, with several other fighters joining them.

Then it was like the whole world fell silent, and they could all hear what sounded like something huge taking a deep breath. A giant maybe, or perhaps even the planet itself. And it said…

 _ **FINALLY…**_

After this it was like an earthquake. The ground fell out from under Filia, and then she was falling with a scream while above her a blue light grew and grew until it washed away everything else.

Even over the roar of the cataclysm, she could still hear Dahlia laughing.

* * *

Five minutes after waking Filia felt strong enough to get up. Together she and Squigly proceeded down the tunnel lit by interspersed lamps both electric and not. They passed groups of Black Egrets and armed Dagonians on their way. None of them stopped to speak. It was like they were on a mission. Squigly hovered at her elbow, alert to any indication she was about to collapse. Filia couldn't blame her. She stumbled only once and had to lean against the wall for a few moments while her head swam with queasy memories.

" **Maybe you should lie down a little longer,"** Samson insisted from her crown. **"You want to be rested for what comes next."**

"I'm alright." Pushing upright, Filia ran a hand through her hair. She looked over to Squigly. Was it her imagination, or did the revenant opera singer seem paler than usual? "Squigly, do you need to rest?" she found herself asking without thinking.

In response the girl's stitched lips pressed together even tighter. Her single eye closed as a shudder stole over her. It was Leviathan who answered for his mistress, looping down to coil around her head solicitously. "Thank you for your concern, Miss Filia. But there is no time to waste. Our allies wait upon us even now. We should make haste."

"Worrying about someone is never a waste, Leviathan," she mumbled back half-heartedly, but took his point. Soon enough they were proceeding on. Eventually the girls and their partners came to a checkpoint manned by several Black Egrets. The guards communicated through walkie-talkies and then gave the thumbs-up to let them through. Soon after Filia found herself in a well-lit chamber. By now she had figured out they must be underground. Where exactly they might be remained a mystery.

"Good. You're awake. Let's get started."

The person who spoke turned out to be a little girl with sea-green hair that hung loose and a patch over one eye emblazoned with a yellow star. Something resembling a ratty wolf pelt looped around her small shoulders. Despite this she looked and sounded like she meant business, one wave of her hand causing both Filia and Squigly to sit down in the indicated spots without question. There were others present in the chamber, almost all of them women.

Filia recognized Princess Parasoul, of all people, wearing a military uniform while standing with her Living Weapon Krieg point-down between high-heeled shoes. There was something off about her appearance, but Filia couldn't quite peg it. Hunched against a wall with knees pressed to her chest and arms wrapped around them was someone else she recognized: the Medici enforcer Cerebella, who looked utterly crestfallen. The two of them had fought briefly back when Bloody Marie was on the loose but hadn't been given a chance to interact much since then. To the circus performer's right sat a scarred feral who had joined them against Heartsease Val, legs stretched out and flicking a bell around her neck in bored fashion. Still, when Cerebella shivered the feral reached up and patted her bare shoulder consolingly. The same comforting gesture was made by a skinny kid to Cerebella's right wearing black and red tights with two long feathers affixed to either temple. It was hard to tell whether they were a boy or a girl. Filia wondered if the three of them might be friends.

"For those of you who've been unconscious up 'til now or don't watch TV, I'm Annie of the Stars," the one-eyed girl from before spoke up. "This is Princess Parasoul. I'm given to understand you all know one another." Annie reached behind her and withdrew something that looked like a large medical journal from a knapsack. She then placed it carefully on the floor in front of them before looking back up. "It's Armageddon, and we're all here to save the world."

No-nonsense. That really did describe her well.

" **You maybe want to fill us in?"** Samson asked. **"That is, if you want our help from here on out."**

The Star Child crooked a green eyebrow at him. "Basically? The world's going to heck. There are three very pissed off, nigh-omnipotent goddesses rearranging the very fabric of reality up topside. New Meridian has become the heart of their empire. We're deep beneath its streets at the moment. There are dinosaurs roaming around up there if you can believe that, and other things that by all rights shouldn't exist in this dimension. A lot of good people have died…"

Here Annie's voice faltered. She gazed in brooding fashion at the ground, fingering the wolf pelt draped protectively around her neck. After a few seconds, the feisty little warrior shook off her bout of melancholia and got back to the story.

"Everyone I could contact has joined us here in the old emergency tunnel network built around the turn of the century. There's been precious little contact with the other kingdoms. No word from Chess, but last I heard the Gigans were marshaling for an assault. Our enemies have turned Medici Tower into their stronghold. The Queen sent out a sort of proclamation a few days ago. She says all who submit to their rule will be… the word she used was 'honored,' but salt me if I know what that means."

The princess chose this moment to speak up. "Lady Annie…" The narrowing of one golden eye seemed to indicate this form of address was being taken with a grain of salt, but if she noticed, Parasoul gave no sign. "Perhaps it would be best to share with our new guests the entirety of our pursuits."

"Sure, why not!" Annie huffed. "Not like the fate of the world is at stake."

"That's exactly why they should have all relevant information," the noblewoman replied.

Annie appeared to relent. She reached forward and tapped a finger against the heavy-bound tome. "Okay. This is the journal of Valentine, whom you might know better as Heartsease Val. What you probably don't know is that after defeating Bloody Marie, Valentine wished upon the Skull Heart in order to learn everything she could about its origin. The result was remarkably informative. There's detailed records contained in here that I've only been able to find scraps of through centuries of intense examination."

No one commented on that, so Filia let it slide. She recognized this was all being done for her benefit, though why they thought it important if the world really was in peril she couldn't say.

"In spite of what she did afterwards, it's not too far-fetched to say we owe Valentine a great deal. She sacrificed herself to obtain this intel. In fact, if we make it through this, I'll be the first to recommend we erect a fudging statue to the woman, cleavage and all." Annie opened the journal and flipped through it, scanning the pages with the intensity of a hawk searching for field mice. "In the time since she first took up the Skull Heart, Valentine learned everything she could and recorded it in here. She managed to fight off the Heart's influence during that period, but she knew it was a losing battle. Eventually she'd succumb and become a Skullgirl in full. Before that could happen, Valentine came to me and entrusted me with her research. I've been studying it ever since. Thanks to this I finally know what we have to do to end all this for good."

"Ummm… excuse me?"

Virtually everyone looked at Filia as she raised her hand. The girl blushed awkwardly at their perusal. "Before we go any further, would you mind telling me who you are and why you would…"

"I told you, I'm Annie of the Stars," the prepubescent cyclops snapped in return. "I'm immortal thanks to the Skull Heart, I kill Skullgirls for a living, and I'm not inclined to babysit little princesses." She looked over at Parasoul. "No offense."

"None taken," the tall redhead spoke with a quirk of her lips.

Having been through a lot in the past, Filia found she could not find any reason to doubt this narrative even if she weren't inclined to naivete at the best of times.

Unfortunately, Samson didn't share her team spirit. **"Hey, One-eyed Monster,"** the Parasite snarled from within his nest of hair. **"Maybe ease up on the kid, okay? She's not the one who pissed in your porridge, or whatever's put you in such a bad mood."**

Leviathan whipped around to glower at his ancient colleague. "Samson, you reprehensible dolt! Learn to read the room, if nothing else! There is grief enough to spare amongst this company, and while my heart goes out to your host, there are more important matters at stake!"

" **You think I don't know that? The air's full of Theon energy even down here! I know exactly what we're up against just as well as you. Still doesn't mean I'll be some snot-nosed brat's doormat!"**

Annie leapt to her feet to glare into Samson's ochre eyes. "You're only alive because Beowulf and that whacky cartoon nut-job sacrificed themselves to keep the Dahlia occupied while you all ran away!" she bit out accusingly.

"Dahlia…"

Everyone turned to looked over against the wall, where Cerebella had finally lifted her tear-streaked face.

"She killed Vitale," the circus acrobat said, nearly choking on the words. "She killed everyone! All my friends, all the Medici! Hertz, Beatrix… even Lorenzo! She murdered my whole family!" Her head sank back into her upraised knees. "She has to be stopped."

This display of mourning served to put out any sparking tempers. Subdued, they turned back to their war conference. Annie got the ball rolling again.

"The journal holds all the answers." She placed a hand with fingers spread out across the pages. "It's given us our best and only chance of winning this war." Her lone gaze swept around the room. "Answer me this: what does the Skull Heart do?"

"It grants wishes?" Filia supplied lamely, knowing already that this wasn't the answer Annie wanted.

" _Twists wishes, you mean,"_ Squigly corrected beside her. _"And turns those foolish enough to succumb to its temptations into Skullgirls."_

"That's the official line," Annie acknowledged. "But there's something more basic you're forgetting. The Heart has the power to raise the dead. Believe me, I understand that when fighting a Skullgirl this might seem like the least of their powers. And in a way it is. But that's only because no one has ever been able to activate it fully. Until now…"

She then turned to a bookmarked page. Everyone saw a diagram of three eerily drawn women in a triangular formation.

"Ages past, the world was ruled by an empire of Theons, what we now refer to as Parasites. At its head was the Lilium, the immortal trio of Queen Lamia and her daughters, Aeon and Venus. Their power was so great it's said they could control time, space, even life itself. An empire like that should have gone on forever. But as we all know…" Annie flipped forward a few pages, "… it didn't."

"One of their servants grew hungry for power and staged a coup de tat. She managed to murder Queen Lamia's two daughters, precipitating a chaotic conflict that threatened to engulf the world. Lamia, driven mad with grief at her loss, disappeared from history at this point. Most assumed she died. I once read a translation saying she 'fled into darkness', but never knew what to make of it. Her empire collapsed, the conspirators failing to keep it together, and the whole thing broke apart into a colossal mess. Many people suffered. Despite the hatred for Parasites that came as a result of this betrayal, reverence for the old queen and her daughters remained, eventually growing into an organized religion which you all know today as the Divine Trinity."

At this point Filia finally realized what had seemed off to her before; Princess Parasoul was no longer sporting her necklace, the sign of the Trinity. She normally was never seen without it.

"According to Valentine's notes, this was not the end of the Lilium. At least, not completely. Using her power, Queen Lamia actually managed to suspend her murdered daughters and herself in a dimension removed from our own, past all notions of reality mortals can comprehend. This was not meant as a last recourse, however. Her aim was to resurrect them all at some point. In order to accomplish this, Lamia used every drop of power she possessed to create a tool capable of doing just that." Another page turned, to reveal a skull-shaped artifact wreathed in flames.

"The Skull Heart," Parasoul intoned simply.

Annie nodded in agreement. "Made by a woman, for a woman. Like I said, it has the power to raise the dead. What we're used to is rotting zombies and skeletons who obey the whims of whatever Skullgirl happened to be in control. But it's far more than that. At full strength, the Skull Heart has the power to resurrect dead _gods._ Having put so much of herself into its creation, Lamia lacked the strength to activate it herself. For that she needed a living host to bind themselves to it."

Several more pages turned up showing text and pictures of Skullgirls throughout the ages. Filia found herself amazed at how much detail the book contained. Val… or rather, Valentine seemed to have gone to great lengths to include as much information as possible.

No time was given to study further as their pint-sized storyteller soldiered on. "Up 'til now, no one has ever been able to fully activate the Skull Heart." She glanced over at Parasoul, whose face had turned dark with displeasure. "Even when your mother had it the results were not total. And she nearly destroyed all of civilization. What we're faced with now is much worse. I always thought the Skull Heart grew stronger based on the purity of the wish made. If done for selfish reasons, even those intended to do good, it warped them, imposing a punishment of eventually transforming the supplicant into a Skullgirl based on how corrupt their wish had been. But I was wrong. The creation of a Skullgirl was always its intent. A person capable of tapping into its full potential would then have the ability to bring back the lost children of Queen Lamia, which was her dream all along. It had to be a woman, because we are the bearers of life. Still, no one has ever been able to reach that point. Their own desires always interfered to some extent. Being mortal, every Skullgirl to this day simply didn't have the focus, willpower, or whatever you might call it necessary to bring about Lamia's plan. So for thousands of years we've been stuck with rampaging mother-of-all-maniacs fueled by a deathless queen's hatred for the living who mock her loss with every breath we take."

Annie closed the book and settled back to regard them all. "That is no longer the case. Finally, a woman has touched the Skull Heart and made a wish that surpasses all others. From what I've heard, by choosing to grant the Skull Heart's wish, Black Dahlia managed to avoid the trap everyone else has fallen into. She made a wish not for herself, and not even for someone she had feelings for. Instead she abandoned any self-interest and gave the Skull Heart a wish that it _couldn't_ corrupt, and _wouldn't_ refuse, because doing so satisfied its very purpose for being. I can't say if the Dahlia knew what she was doing or it was just bad luck. But she managed to pull off what Lamia always hoped would happen. Now, she's the Skullgirl. And the gods have returned."

"I should have killed that woman when I had the chance!" Princess Parasoul swore darkly. "There's been scant sign of the Skullgirl since that day. Only her forces, which are pretty much everywhere. They and the monsters brought in by the Lilium now control the whole country. My father is dead and most of our army has been destroyed. The Trinity is preparing to expand their power base. Things look pretty hopeless."

Annie tapped her eyepatch confidently. "But that doesn't mean we're beat."

The newly established Queen of the Canopy Kingdom closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again to gaze at the assembled women. "Which brings us to…" A faint smile twitched at the corner of her mouth as she glanced down at Valentine's journal. "…our last hope. As bad as things look, we've been given an opportunity. All we must do to win is kill the Skullgirl."

The tiny vigilante rose to stand by her biggest fan. Everyone seemed to cluster closer in eagerness to hear what came next. "The Skull Heart has been obliterated countless times throughout its history, and always it has returned after a 7-year period. Thanks to Valentine we finally know how this process works. Whenever a wish was made upon it before, the wielder never gained access to the Heart's full power. That meant some amount was always left in reserve, unreachable and unobtainable. It was this fraction, however small it might have been, that enabled the Skull Heart to reform ready to be used again after seven years."

Annie seemed willing to explain this for Filia's benefit, which the girl appreciated. However it hadn't escaped her notice that both she and Queen Parasoul had avoided looking at her for the last few minutes.

"But now, that is no longer the case. Black Dahlia has access to the Skull Heart in all its glory. She is the most powerful Skullgirl imaginable. And as Valentine put it, she is also the most _vulnerable."_ A hard, mean smile caused that seeming child's lips to curve upwards, revealing teeth that seemed no less fierce than those of the wolf pelt she wore."Because with nothing kept in reserve, the Skull Heart has no means to restore itself should it be destroyed again. If we manage to defeat Dahlia, it means the Skull Heart will cease to exist _permanently!_ And without it, Queen Lamia and her godly children will be consigned back to the void from which there can be no returning. Their power is immeasurable, but their _lives_ are still dependent upon the Skull Heart! It's the only thing permitting them to exist. This is our chance to end the Age of Skullgirls for good and all!"

"Trinity watch ov–" Parasoul caught herself in time.

"My partner Saigan is inside the former Medici Tower keeping an eye on things as we speak," Annie continued. "They call it 'Tian Di' now. From what he's shown me, virtually every pure Theon in existence has answered Lamia's call. I've had a bit of trouble correlating everything I've seen since both the interior and exterior are so warped in terms of time and space. But according to Saigan, Dahlia isn't with them. Instead she's withdrawn to the underground Catacombs beneath New Meridian. Defense of Tian Di has been passed to their Theon generals. The Trinity themselves are too busy torturing that bloodless traitor to really pay attention to much else at the moment."

" **Best news I've heard in a hundred generations,"** Samson spoke with wicked relish.

Annie shrugged his bloodthirsty comment off. "Seems they keep bringing her back to life when she dies. Or maybe they're rewinding time, who can tell. Anyway, our plan is simple. Our remaining forces…" she gestured around at the assembled party, "will launch a direct attack against Tian Di to draw the Lilium's attention. While this is happening, a three-woman team we've selected will proceed into the Catacombs to destroy the Skullgirl. Our own 'Trinity', as it were. Now that our final soldier is with us," she threw a pointed look at Filia, who blinked uncertainly, "we can start the operation."

She finally got it then. Filia looked around in great confusion before pointing a finger at her chest. "Wait… you mean me?"

Parasoul noticed the trepidation in her face and spoke to address it. "Three have been selected owing to their capabilities and relationship with Black Dahlia. Miss Fortune," she lifted her chin regally towards Nadia, "is bonded with the Life Gem and is rendered effectively unkillable as a result."

Nadia grinned and popped her own head off to scratch behind her ears. The princess grimaced distastefully but continued. "Miss Contiello, despite her… handicap, can say much the same. As an undead, she is able to endure great damage, and her partner is an Ancient who has grown far stronger as a result of all the Theonic energy unleashed of late."

" _I accept, of course,"_ Squigly said in her distant voice. The last surviving member of the Contiello smoothed her skirts daintily, a far-off look in her eye. She had been somewhat withdrawn and restless up 'til now, but here she seemed to have a grip on herself. _"If it is within my power, the Dahlia shall answer for her crimes."_

Behind them the cat-burglar Nadia Fortune hopped nimbly upright. "Don't forget about me, Grave Gal. I've got a score to settle with that witch from back when I was in one piece. But Yu Wan tells me she's gone and kidnapped a friend of mine. It was purr-sonal before." Her bright green eyes gleamed in the low light. "Now it's fatal."

All this made sense to Filia. Despite that, she found herself hesitantly forced to ask, "Ummm… so then why me? I'm pretty normal, aside from Samson."

It seemed like things got very quiet then. Several people avoided her eye when she looked around at them. Only Annie chose to meet her gaze squarely.

"Because the Dahlia wants you."

Pure cold flowed through her body at these words.

 _Filia…_

It was like she could hear that madwoman's voice whispering in her ear. It caused a clamor of discordant noises, a cacophony inside her skull. She clutched at her temples in desperation, and as if on command a soothing balm of blankness fell over the noise ( _memories?_ ), muffling them. The girl relaxed.

"My sources told me a great deal about you, Filia," Parasoul spoke in a gentle manner. "You have no recollection of who you once were. That could be a boon in a certain light." For a moment her eyes locked with those of Samson, who stirred restlessly. "But by now you must have realized there is a connection between you and Dahlia, one which means something to her especially. Val… I mean, Valentine even mentioned you in her notes as a possible weakness concerning her. With everything at stake, we cannot afford to overlook any advantage. You must accept your fate."

There was a pain in her chest. Filia found it hard to breathe. Her ears still rang, and she swayed where she sat.

Upon seeing this, Cerebella spoke up. "If she doesn't want to, then I–"

"No."

And Filia stood, eyes red as blood.

"I'll do it."

* * *

Shortly afterwards an enormous fellow in a trenchcoat and fedora squeezed inside the chamber to inform the Queen and Annie that their preparations were ready. The leaders of the uprising drew off to confer with him after wishing their three volunteers good luck. A rather adorable shark Dagonian in a lab coat took over, escorting the trio of fighters to their assigned location. None of them spoke much on their way through the tunnels. Filia felt nervous in the way she sometimes got before competing in sports activities at school. It was almost funny that she reacted the same way to serving a volleyball as she did to hunting down an unstoppable killing machine. At one point they passed someone who looked suspiciously like her teacher Mrs. Victoria dressed like a dominatrix, but that was probably just nerves talking.

"This is it," Stanley the scientist remarked as they came upon a certain cave. No lights were set here, and Filia scanned the dark hole in apprehension. There could be anything in there…

Stanley checked his watch, held it to the side of his head for a moment, shook it, then sighed and thrust both hands into the pockets of his coat. "The assault will begin in approximately 25 minutes. That should give you enough time to breach the Catacombs and locate your target." He hesitated, then took off his glasses and cleaned them before looking at the girls again. "I'm sorry," the dumpy little fishman stated. "You kids shouldn't have to deal with something like this, but we're out of options. I know you must be scared, so I'll just say…" and here he took a deep breath before hooking his spectacles back on. "There is no scientific evidence to support the concept of 'invincible'. Every Skullgirl 'til this day has been defeated. I see little reason for that pattern to end now. Good luck."

" _Thank you, kind sir,"_ Squigly sang.

"Yeah," Nadia grinned. "That actually makes me feel better. Way to go, Dr. Jaws!" And she gave him an affectionate punch to the arm.

"Ow." Stanley grinned, revealing an amazing amount of teeth. "You're welcome. Oh, and before I forget…" He then handed over a small fanny pack to Nadia, who belted it around her waist without question. Filia assumed this was something they had discussed beforehand. With that Stanley stumped past them to go trundling down the corridor until he vanished round a curve.

They looked askance at one another. Filia, Squigly and Nadia gave identical nods before entering the cave mouth. Each knew exactly how important this was, and all had very good reasons to see it done.

There was no need to admit they were scared. It went without saying.

Nadia took point, slipping soundlessly forward like a shadow. Squigly dropped straight into the ground and was swallowed up. She could keep track of anything that might be coming towards them from down there. It was pitch dark in here. Filia was glad to have these two very powerful and capable allies. But at the same time, it made her experience a sharp case of… inadequacy. Would someone else have been a better choice? Somebody stronger, smarter, more sure of themselves? What if I mess up?

What if I mess up and we all die?

"Steps up ahead," Nadia informed her. "They lead down. Take my hand."

"Okay." She did so, feeling that wiry hand encircle her wrist, the claws pricking faintly. When Miss Fortune took a step down, Filia shuffled forward until her shoes picked up the edge of the stairs. With that she proceeded to follow her partner's lead.

" **Hey, Tuna Helper,"** Samson spoke up. **"Can you really see where you're going?"**

"No."

The Parasite made a choking sound. **"NO?! Waddaya mean 'NO'?!"**

"Relax, will you?" Nadia shot back from the darkness before them. "I make a living creeping around in dark places. I don't need my eyes to know where I am. Have some faith. Not all cats are bad luck, y'know." They proceeded for a few minutes in silence. Then, "We're at the bottom."

It was a relief to have level ground underfoot again. Filia followed at a more brisk pace. There was a dry, musty odor in the air she wasn't sure she wanted to identify.

The sound of rock splitting came below them. _"We've reached the Catacombs. There are sepulchers here. All empty. Beware, their former occupants might be close by."_

" **Nice,"** Samson grunted. He came loose and began slowly waving his tendrils about like an octopus searching for signs of food. Filia kept her eyes peeled, for all the good it did. There still wasn't even the faintest glimmer of light down here.

Then she noticed a change in the air. Around her feet… was something glowing? "Do you guys see that?" she whispered. As she did, the glow intensified, and she sucked in a gasp. Before she knew it Filia was surrounded by a sluggish pale blue fog that gave off an eerie incandescence. It rose all around, encasing her in an undulating cocoon.

Both she and Nadia froze. The feral was vaguely visible in front of her now, but even with only a few feet of distance between them Nadia's image was so indistinct as to be a ghost. Suddenly her grip tightened. "Hsst!" Miss Fortune hissed. "Did you hear something?!"

Filia narrowed her eyes, listening. "Like what?"

No sound came through the fog. The girls stood tense and anxious. Filia turned her head, and for just a moment she believed there was someone standing on her left. It looked like a small girl with fins sprouting from her head, arms outstretched in a mute plea for aid.

Then Nadia let go and sprang forward. "MINETTE!" she shouted furiously. As she did the mist seemed to swallow her. Both Samson and Filia reached out to try and grab her, but neither of them made contact. There was a brief pattering noise, and they stood alone. Filia could feel panic rising as her heart began to pound in desperation.

" _Filia, stay calm."_ Squigly appeared at their side. _"Don't give in… to fear. You must… fight…"_

Suddenly the zombie appeared to lose her footing. She sagged towards the floor, catching one of Leviathan's coils to keep from falling. The blue-haired beauty trembled.

"What's wrong?" Filia reached for her anxiously, but one bony hand came up to ward off any aid.

"It is the Skull Heart," Leviathan spoke in subdued tones. He rested his forehead against the side of Squigly's head, and the girl's shaking subsided to an extent. She stroked his smooth chin as if in search of reassurance. "Its call is overpowering her. This is much worse than what took place during the tenures of Heartsease Val or Bloody Marie. Even with my augmented strength, I fear she might be taken from me before long and become another member of the Skullgirl's entourage." He glanced over at Filia, and she could practically see the pain this admission caused in his reptilian features. "We must conclude our business before that happens," the worm spoke with steely resolve.

Filia nodded doubtfully. It was now clear what Parasoul had meant when she referred to Squigly's handicap. At any moment the influence of the Skull Heart might seize control of her dead friend's mind and soul, transforming her into an obedient slave of the Skullgirl.

" _I will be fine,"_ Sienna insisted, her ephemeral tones sounding strained to Filia. _"Give me but a moment to collect myself and we may proceed."_

Sick at the thought of what was happening to her cherished companion, the high schooler glanced all around, alert for any shambling hordes which might be bearing down on them even now. She strove not to think about how easily their last resort was falling to the power of the enemy. We haven't even reached the Dahlia, and already we're down by one. What chance do we really have?

Squigly opened her eye. When she did, a figure appeared through the mist. A woman, with long silver hair and pointed ears, wearing a great fur wrap and smiling wickedly. The moment she saw her Sienna Contiello recognized the person who had made her mother a monster. Compelled by the prospect of vengeance on that hateful form, the singing songstress forgot all about her mission, rising to follow as the taunting temptress beckoned her.

And thus Filia found herself alone.

She knew without looking that Squigly was gone. There were tears rising to her eyes, and her face felt hot and swollen. The urge to break down and cry built up inside. "I'm all alone!" she gasped. "What am I supposed to do, Samson?!"

" **Take it easy, alright? Those two are tough birds. Don't count them out yet. We'll just keep on moving and I bet you anything we'll run across them again. Like the cat said, have some faith, Filia."**

"But what if it's all on me now?" she protested. "I don't think I can do this alone! I don't even know where to go!"

" **Yeah you do, kid. We both do."**

She knew what he meant. Stripped of her memories, faced with heinous enemies and cast adrift in a world that hardly made any sense, Filia had persevered despite all the odds stacked against her. She fought with Samson and strove to make a life for herself in spite of having no past. And to her credit, it had worked out pretty well. She'd made friends and continued to seek clues which might explain her existence. Through it all, they had worked together, but Filia was the one who decided for herself that she was not going to quit in spite of everything arrayed against her.

You go forward. That's what Samson was saying.

It's just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. Keep moving. Don't stand still. Eventually you'll get somewhere. It might not be where you expected, but it beats staying put and just hoping things will work out. My past might be lost, but my life certainly isn't.

And so, shoulders squared and chin lifted determinedly, the young warrior pressed on into the gloom.

Filia couldn't say for sure how long she walked. It honestly felt as if she were upside down at some times, or moving at an angle perpendicular to the floor. Resolutely she brushed these sensations aside and kept going.

The fog disappeared without warning. The young woman found herself on a narrow ledge of rock faced by a fathomless chasm that spread out to either side past her field of vision. A blue-white glow filled this abyss completely. The roof of the cavern was completely dark. Far away she could make out what looked like a sky-high wall composed entirely of gigantic skeletons, their bones packed tightly together in what could have been the resting place for everything that had ever lived on the planet. From the edge of the outcropping she stood upon there sprouted a staircase made of bones stretching up into the air without any visible support.

She was distracted from this awe-inspiring sight by the dozens of nearly identical women standing before her. They were all dressed in showgirl bunny costumes with black bodysuits and fishnet stockings. Some were fair-skinned, others dark, with a variety of hair colors. To a woman they were armed, and each wore a skull-shaped mask with rabbit ears on top. Numerous black holes for eyes gazed upon her. Filia raised her arms and took a stance in preparation for battle.

To her surprise, the wall of hostile females split down the middle to form a corridor leading to the staircase.

"She's waiting for you, Filia," one of the Skull Bunnies said in amused tones, indicating for her to proceed.

Cautiously the girl edged forward. She half expected them to swarm her the moment she stepped out into their ranks. This did not come to pass. Unnerved, Filia proceeded to climb the arch of bones. That armed posse took up step alongside her, moving as she did. Together they trooped up the stairs, heels clicking on dry bone. Filia couldn't help but shiver at the thought of what lay beneath her. There was no indication her escort shared this sentiment. The Dahlia's personal forces marched with a military cadence that seemed unnatural. Were they really still alive? Or had their leader required one more sacrifice on her girls' part if they were to continue to serve her?

These women obeyed the will of Black Dahlia. So did I. Maybe I'll wind up just like them? This served as a reminder of the person she was about to face. There was something compelling about Dahlia. In large part, the recognition of what they meant to one another had served to bring Filia here even more than the prospect of saving the world. That's why I came: because if I want to move forward, there's one person blocking my way. She's always been there. If I want a future, I need to get past her once and for all. She won't let me have it any other way.

At last they drew abreast of a floating plateau where the staircase terminated. This structure was shaped like a ring with numerous heavy stalactites hanging from its underside. True to form, it was composed entirely of corpses, some skeletal, while others still had cloth or rotting flesh clinging to them. The disc looked to be well over a hundred feet from one edge to another. For the large part it was featureless; a flat carpet of ossified remains that served as the ground on which they walked.

Here, on a throne of the dead, the Skullgirl waited for her.

Black Dahlia sat before a small round table with an empty chair across from her, like she was preparing for afternoon tea. At first glance little had changed about her. She still wore her trademark hat and veil, and her dark purple dress remained glossy and rich. Only when Filia drew closer did she detect a subtle but marked difference. The white half-cape Dahlia wore that always reminded her of a doily remained, but now the pattern cut around its edges looked like tiny skulls. The loop of pearls hanging from her good shoulder was also revealed to be carved into skulls. Most striking of all, her right arm was completely skeletal, composed entirely of a gunmetal blue alloy that gleamed in the pale light. This appendage moved as though it were a part of her body.

A nun in a blue habit stood at her right. The priestess' hands were clasped as though in prayer, eyes closed and face composed and peaceful. As Filia approached, however, those eyes opened a crack, allowing red light to peek out. The nun smiled briefly before resuming her worshipful attitude.

Dahlia sat back in her throne with legs crossed at the knee and chin resting against one hand. In a strange way, Filia was just a bit disappointed she still couldn't see the woman's face. Just that vague shadowy mockery that always left one feeling uneasy. Regardless, there was no mistaking her. It wasn't the mask they all had grown up dreading, but the person behind it.

Without being asked the girl slid into her seat across from the two women. She didn't look back to see what might be happening with the bunny gals. All her attention focused on them.

This is it.

Funny. I thought I'd be more scared. Instead I feel kind of relaxed. Like there's nothing left to worry about. I wonder if that means I'm ready to die?

"I'm here," Filia said.

Black Dahlia smiled. She lifted her metal arm, the exposed bone fingers flicking out in a negligent command. In response a few of the Skull Bunnies brought forth two crystal champagne flutes with gold-painted rims and a bottle tucked into a bucket of ice. As they set the cups down the nun came forward and popped the cork, proceeding to pour a measure of bubbling golden liquid into each glass. She handed off the flask and moved to retake her place by the Skullgirl's side. The glasses were placed before them. Filia looked at hers mistrustfully, then up at Dahlia, who reached out slowly with her human arm to grasp hold.

" _ **Oh, Filia…"**_

The chiding voice from behind the veil felt like a bonesaw raking up the girl's spine, making her sit up straight with sweat dripping down her cheeks.

" _ **Do you really think I brought you here just to poison you?"**_

Lifting the flute to shoulder level, Black Dahlia smirked. Seeing it, Filia found she couldn't do anything but comply. Numbly she raised her glass in an approximation of a toast.

" _ **Cheers, dear."**_

Dahlia didn't wait for her to speak. Instead she took a drink straight through her veil. The champagne left a stain on the fabric almost like a kiss. Filia stared at that mark, hypnotized. Her chest felt tight as if a cold metal hand was slowly squeezing her heart. When the Skullgirl looked at her expectantly as if asking why she didn't take a sip, Filia explained, "I'm not old enough to drink."

Dahlia laughed and leaned over to her cohort. _**"You see? I told you she was a good girl."**_

" _Such an obedient child,"_ the menacing nun crooned.

Their mockery made Filia bristle. She shut her eyes tight and bit her lip. Samson coiled around her scalp, spoiling for a fight. All it would take was one word to get things started.

Instead she looked up and scowled at the Dahlia. "Tell her to leave," she indicated towards the nun with her chin.

For a time they just gazed at each other silently.

Then the Skullgirl turned to look at her accomplice. _**"I need some time alone with this one, Double."**_

" _As you wish, Priestess,"_ the creature responded with a bow. _"I shall report to the Trinity as to our current situation."_ Her form shifted quite abruptly, becoming a swarming mass of bone and body parts that writhed in one place. A huge red eye stared at Filia briefly. Then the thing appeared to swallow itself, vanishing with a disturbing slurping noise. Filia steeled herself for a possible attack.

 _ **"** **They don't trust me, you see."**_

Instead the Dahlia leaned back in her throne, swirling the champagne slowly back and forth. She rested her chin on one hand again and stared off to one side, seemingly lost in the endless dance of blue light that made up the majority of her domain. Even like this, Filia could make out nothing about her face.

 _ **"** **The Trinity. They call me their 'high priestess' and reward me with whatever I desire."**_ Her glowing eye flickered briefly over to Filia before moving back. _**"But they have Double watching me constantly. I can understand their concern. They need me, after all. Still, you have to wonder… is she meant for protection, or to keep me from making any moves against them?"**_

"Maybe you shouldn't have murdered your last employer," the girl snapped angrily back.

 _ **"** **Hah!"**_ Black Dahlia came about with a laugh. She emptied her glass onto the floor, letting fine champagne splash over dry bone and flow like golden tears through gaping empty eye sockets. Leaning forward, she fixed Filia with a knowing look. _**"Tell me something, dear,"**_ she spoke teasingly. _**"Have you remembered anything about yourself?"**_

No response came, but this appeared to be enough for Dahlia. She tapped a skeletal finger on the table. _**"No, hmm? Maybe someone thought it would make you less effective against me. Not that it matters**_." A hungry smile flashed beneath the veil. _ **"You never truly forgot me, did you?"**_

Filia wanted to deny it. If anyone deserved to be forgotten, it was this fiend right in front of her. But for some reason she held back, and said only, "You can't forget someone you never really knew."

The killer chuckled and lounged back. _**"So I'm not important enough to remember, is that it?"**_

"No." Filia cocked her head to one side, choosing her words with great care. When this all goes down, I want her to be in as little control as possible. The slightest uncertainty or anger I can make her experience might make all the difference. "I just never understood why you were in my life, did I?"

This seemed to make the Dahlia contemplative. She watched Filia, studying the lovely teen's face with great attention. Red eyes stared right back without blinking. Even though her whole body was tensed in preparation for battle, Filia fought to appear calm.

" _ **Oh,"**_ Dahlia whispered, _ **"No one really knew that, Filia. The Labs, Lorenzo, the ones who came before you…"**_ Her words became a sharp hiss at this point, filled with a desire so intense it couldn't be hidden. Filia felt her flesh crawl in sudden terror. _**"None of them realized why I was in their lives until the end. They saw me as a weapon, or an ally, or just someone who had always been there and didn't need an explanation."**_ For once it didn't sound like Dahlia was smiling. Her white eye burned through the concealing fabric. _**"But I was there for**_ **them** _._ _ **Just like I'm here for you now."**_

"What's that supposed to mean?" It took everything she had to force out enough air to speak. That sense of a hold on her heart was back full force, made even worse by the way it was pounding like a sledgehammer against her ribs.

The paramount Skullgirl swept an arm out across her domain. _ **"You see what we're standing on? Every last one of them is here thanks to me."**_ From out of the cemetery flooring a fleet of bones leapt up with a rattle, stacking atop one another like building blocks until they had come to form a human shape which hung there twitching and jerking as though in pain. _**"These are all the people I've killed in my life."**_

There was something bizarre about the reanimated doll. Staring intently, Filia felt a vicious shock go through her. The severed cable coming out of its spine… the hole through the head and the misshapen, tortured skeletal structure all told her she was looking at Carol.

" **You sick freak…!"** Samson snarled. He swept out to dash the champagne bucket and glasses from the table. **"I'm gonna–!"**

"No."

The Parasite grew quiet at his mistress' clear, strong voice.

"Let her finish."

They stared one another down, face to hairy face. But at last he obeyed. Upon returning her attention to the Dahlia it was to find her smiling again. Filia really hated the way she did that.

" _ **It's so wonderful to see how you've grown, Filia,"**_ the undead assassin said in a lighthearted manner. _**"It just goes to prove how wrong your parents were. They thought you soft and sweet. Nightingale, they called you. Their little treasure. But Lorenzo knew better. He saw the makings of greatness in you, so strong he was even willing to overlook his own children in your favor. Your father objected, of course. Not because he wanted the job for himself, I think. Given the choice he would probably have stepped aside for your uncle Vitale. He was just worried about his little girl. Your family had such a lot to say to one another regarding you. Things got very heated. Tension built up between them so bad, it needed only the slightest thing to set it off. Until one day…"**_

Dahlia snapped her fingers together suddenly. And in spite of herself, Filia flinched.

" _ **Pop!"**_

Her host settled back, making herself more comfortable to enjoy the sight of the girl's pain. _**"They're in here, you know."**_ She tapped one high-heeled metal foot against the carpet of bones. _**"Your whole family, from Lorenzo on down. Someone once said it was my job to decide when the Medici died. He thought I was an angel of death. I thought that was cute. As if there's a higher power behind what I do."**_ Dahlia reached out to grasp the reanimated Carol by the back of the neck. Her metal fingers flexed, and the corpse's skull shattered, causing the whole miserable thing to crumble and disappear back into the floor. _**"There's only me."**_

Filia's hands gripped the side of the chair tightly. Her blood was boiling in a way she had never known possible. It was all she could do not to go tearing through anything between them and rip that hateful creature limb from limb. It's time, it's time! I _know_ it's time! Time to make her _pay_ for everything she's done! But before then, let me just ask once…!

"What do you _want_ from me, you crazy _witch?!"_ she snarled in blackest fury.

That masked face tilted slightly. _**"Oh, Filia…"**_

In a flash Dahlia had clambered atop the table. And then she _crawled_ towards Filia, a sight so nightmarish it made her freeze up with horror. As she sat there petrified, Black Dahlia drew up right in front of her, reaching forward to cup Filia's face between gloved and metal fingers as she knelt on the tabletop. Her victim couldn't move. Samson was the same. She could feel him struggling, but something kept him from coming to her aid. They were helpless, both of them. The Skullgirl's touch had robbed her of the ability to react. Was this some power they had all along? Or is it just her, Black Dahlia, the last and most powerful of the Skullgirls?

 _ **"** **I've watched you since you were born,"**_ Dahlia crooned, stroking those plump cheeks in eager fashion. _**"I knew from that day you and I were meant for each other. You're not the first, dear. There've been other girls before you, I'm not ashamed to admit. I waited for the right moment. Sometimes it was when they were at their happiest, the height of euphoria and filled with hope! For others it came after they hit rock bottom and had nowhere else to go. They all came to me then to find the answer. And when it ended between us, I started looking for another. Let the Trinity have this world, it makes no difference to me. I've already got your replacement lined up for when we're finished here. She's a cute little thing, a Dagonian I met while out on assignment. I've really been looking forward to her. And afterwards, maybe I'll pay Queen Parasoul's little sister a visit? But before then…"**_

The hold on her face passed over the pain threshold, bringing tears to Filia's eyes.

 _ **"** **I want to feel your heart,"**_ the madwoman gasped, panting hard so that her veil flew back and forth. _ **"In your chest, Filia! I want to hold it in my hand while it's still BEATING inside you!"**_ Her grip spasmed tighter. _**"I want to breathe in the last breath from your lungs! I want to hold your body against mine as you stiffen and go limp! I want to hear your final SCREAM! Just me, no one else!"**_

Black Dahlia sucked in a breath and roared, _**"I WANT TO FEEL YOU DIE, FILIA!"**_

" _DRAUGEN PUNCH!"_

The table exploded beneath them as something erupted through the bone floor. Dahlia somersaulted off it laughing. Filia went tumbling backwards, taking the chair with her. She skidded along on all fours until coming to a stop. Doing so let her see Squigly and Leviathan spinning like a drill. The dancing duo fluttered downwards in slow motion, a graceful flower in bloom, landing with unearthly grace to stand protectively before Filia.

There was no chance to speak. Black Dahlia floated before them. Her right arm snapped with blue fire, and when it cleared the gun arm was back, only now the artillery case resembled a giant skull attached at her elbow. Three gun barrels emerged from the nose and eye sockets. Its lower jaw was missing, and its upper teeth were grenade cannisters. Without hesitation Dahlia aimed and fired, triple blue shots roaring from her cannon towards Squigly. The zombie grasped Leviathan's long tail and wiggled him lightning fast up and down in the manner of a battle rope before lashing out. The shots exploded on contact, and both girls sprang back, coming up side by side with eyes locked on their enemy.

" _ **Oh, girls!"**_ Dahlia practically gasped with laughter. She still hadn't come down, and now hovered several feet above the ground. A blue inferno burned all around her. Her arms and legs were spread out as though to embrace them both. _**"GIRLS! You're just not getting it! If you couldn't stop me from killing your whole family, what makes you think you can do it NOW?!"**_

Neither of them responded. Instead they just reached out and took one another's hand, bone sliding over flesh in a secure affirmation of trust, friendship, and resolve. They had one shared goal. And they were needed.

Suddenly Leviathan wound securely around Filia's wrist. He then snapped forward, launching her straight at the Dahlia. Samson sprouted raging from her head, all spikes and claws fashioned solely from hair. "BANSHEE!" she howled, the two of them transforming into a winged moth monster aiming to blow straight through that wicked woman.

Her doily cape swept up between them, and just like that the duo rebounded off it as though they had slammed into a brick wall. Filia landed hard and quickly looked up in time to see a Skull grenade roll right in front of her.

She heard Squigly cry her name. There came a blue flash, and then smoke and flying bones were everywhere.

Squigly emerged through the cloud cover at a run. The soprano launched herself up high and sent Leviathan striking downwards towards Dahlia, hard and fast enough to penetrate anything. Their enemy watched him approach with a smile, and said…

" _Foolish children…"_

The dragon lance gave a start. Before he could escape a huge fist grabbed him by the neck. Squigly stared in amazement. Below her a muscular wrestler wearing a wolf's pelt now stood in the place Dahlia had previously occupied.

" _There is no opposing the divine,"_ Double sang, her lilting tones flowing from Beowulf's grinning mouth. _"For your sins, we shall grant you eternal repose."_

Even as the shapeshifter spoke, Squigly felt a trio of gun barrels press against the back of her head. _**"Take a bow."**_

The trauma from her final moments of life came back at this touch, and she relived the shocking pain from when the bullet traveled through her skull even as the same person who killed her once prepared to do so again.

Before she could fire, however, Dahlia jerked back as something came hurtling towards her from above, missing by inches. With a snarl the master assassin looked down to see a large wooden coffin smash against the floor. Even Double stared in confusion at this sight, allowing Leviathan to wriggle free and go streaking back to rejoin his mistress, who landed lightly near the broken casket. _"Are you two all right?"_ she spoke with some concern.

" **You didn't have to step in."** Samson uncurled from out of his Hairball technique, a spiked cannonball that surrounded Filia completely and could defend against lethal assaults. **"I had it covered!"**

"Think of it as good teamwork, Samson," his partner declared, rising to dust off her skirt.

Together they stood back to back facing off against the pair of nightmares. Squigly confronted Double, while Filia challenged Black Dahlia. She raised her fists and glared at her hovering opponent, who gave a mocking salute. "The odds are even now, Dahlia!" Filia shouted. "It's two against two!"

"Four against two," Leviathan corrected her in a pedantic manner while weaving back and forth. "We Theons are not to be discounted in the end."

" **Giving a flippin' math lecture even now!"** a sour grumble came from Samson.

Filia took this brief interlude to catch her breath. She still felt a little lightheaded from the experience of being buried alive however briefly. Squigly's quick thinking had certainly prevented them from sustaining any injuries, but a part of her had to wonder if maybe Samson had been right and they could have resisted the attack all on their own. In truth Filia had never felt so powerful as she did right now, as if the strength she shared with Samson was enhanced just by being in this place. The rush of power had also contributed to her momentary dizziness. Could it be they were drawing on the energy of the Skullgirl's domain in and of itself?

She watched her opponent cautiously. Dahlia had only been the Skullgirl for a few days. It was entirely possible she hadn't worked out all the advantages this afforded her yet. Which meant she was still relying mainly on her own formidable combat prowess. Could that be another reason the Trinity had tasked Double with watching her, to make sure their champion had time to adjust to her newfound abilities? If so, maybe we really can take her.

" _Feckless traitors!"_ Double hissed, reverting into a winding blob of offal as she did. Her words cracked like a whip through the dusty air. Elsewhere Black Dahlia had withdrawn behind her cape again, keeping most of her body hidden. She smiled and crooked a finger invitingly, daring Filia to come at her. The girl's eyes narrowed.

" **Watch it,"** Samson warned her as she took a step forward in preparation for battle. **"She's baiting you. This lady really knows how to get in people's heads."**

"That's okay," Filia responded. "I'm pretty much empty-headed as it is."

He managed a chuckle at that. Filia began to walk forward. Her pace quickened until she was running full tilt at the villainous necromancer. They heard gurgling cries and a weirdly beautiful voice singing behind them and knew Double and Squigly had come to blows, but Filia had every faith her friend would keep the monster occupied long enough to finish things here.

Samson sent tendrils rooting into the bone floor like stakes. They used this as support to launch Filia feet first at the Dahlia. Her shoes collided with the warding cape with as little to show for it as before, but this had only been meant to cover ground.

"Surprise!"

In a flash Filia had dropped down to lie flat as though lounging on her bed flipping through magazines. At the same time her living locks burrowed through the graveyard before bursting back out as a drill aiming to pierce the Dahlia from top to bottom.

Doing so gave her an up-close look as one high-heeled shoe pivoted, side-stepping the incoming hair spear while Dahlia's other metallic foot came windmilling around to smash into the side of Filia's face.

The impact threw her halfway across the platform. They had taken hits before, but never anything like that, not even when fighting the previous Skullgirls. It was like diving face-first into an empty swimming pool. For a moment the only sensible thing was to curl up and whimper.

Filia was back on her feet before the pain set in, ears ringing and groggy but determined nonetheless. No lying down on the job!

" **WHOAH!"**

Her head jerked to one side without her conscious decision. A trio of burning bullets flashed by close enough to singe their split ends. Good thing one of us was paying attention, otherwise we both might have wound up decapitated. "Thanks, Samson!" she acknowledged his aid gratefully.

" **Just get her!"**

"Right!"

Filia took a moment to check on her other partner. By the looks of it Squigly was managing to hold her own against the revolting nun. At one point there were actually two versions of the zombie soprano fighting each other, one color-swapped to a more muted palette. Purple fire roared from Leviathan's mouth, to be answered by a crimson blast from his doppelganger. The platform itself rocked from the force of their conflict, forcing Filia to leap high overhead or risk being flung into empty space.

The Skullgirl seized upon this moment. She appeared before them in a rush of cold blue flame, her left hand lashing out straight towards Filia's throat. In doing so the whole forearm split apart, revealing a pair of sharp blades that scissored outward to chop her to pieces. In response a veritable salon's worth of scissors, razors and combs made of purple tresses shot forth to meet them.

Their weapons connected, and both Parasite and wielder winced as the murderous blades sheared through theirs with seeming ease. Yet even still, the sheer amount of weapons they brought to bear proved telling. Those hair products which survived flew to skewer Dahlia, who was forced to check her attack and whip up her cloak swiftly to block them.

In response Filia propelled herself higher to hang for a moment like an autumn leaf waiting to fall. Then Samson flourished around her in a nest of hair, his jaws springing open wider than ever 'til he resembled a giant slavering wolf. "Fenrir…"

"… **Drive!"** At this he came howling down towards the Dahlia to devour her alive with Filia clinging to his pelt.

From beneath the edge of her armored cape Dahlia's knee shot up. It split at the hinge, a pilot light flicked on, and then a flamethrower roared to life, sending a blue inferno billowing down the Parasite's throat. The pain this caused him was worse than anything Filia had ever known. Their rapid dive became a heedless tumble as they crashed to earth.

Coughing, the girl struggled to sit up from the huge mass of twitching hair that had served to cushion her fall. Don't pass out! _Don't pass out!_ Even like this, Samson had sought to protect his host. Yet her throat felt like it was scraped raw, and she could breathe only in ragged gasps. This isn't working! Why isn't this _working?!_ I haven't seen her do anything near the level of what the other Skullgirls we've fought were capable of!

It's not that she doesn't know how to use her powers. She doesn't _need_ to! She thinks we're not worth it!

 _ **"Shall I tell you a story, Filia?"**_ a voice whispered soothingly in her ear.

She spun around to deliver a vicious strike with one elbow, only to come up short as a hand seized hold of hers. Dahlia crouched beside them smiling, but it was not she who had caught the attack. Instead Filia looked down to see a skeletal arm emerging from the hair carpet. Immediately more of these cadaverous appendages burst forth to grasp her body, dragging the terrified girl down into the embrace of the undead. She struggled in a panic as rotting hands grappled her arms, digging into bare thighs and tangling bony fingers all through that wealth of hair until it was a knotted mess of ribcages, teeth and femurs. Filia lay pinned painfully beneath the press of limbs. Her eyes darted around in desperate search for some kind of aid.

 _ **"When you were a small child, and you had a nightmare, you would always run to your parents' bedroom for protection. They used to tuck you in between them and the three of you would drift off to sleep together. Isn't that sweet?"**_

A few loose strands of hair became a buzzsaw that whirred forth with enough force to chop down a redwood. They passed so close to Dahlia's throat it caused her forelocks to flutter. But the veil didn't so much as move, and soon enough even these recalcitrant follicles were locked up tight by the horde of crypt-spawn. Her tale continued without pause.

 _ **"I was there, Filia. At the foot of the bed, watching you. Watching you sleep! I could have killed them both then. Had I wanted, you would have woken up the next day sandwiched between Mommy and Daddy, only to realize that you had been sleeping so peacefully next to two corpses the whole night long."**_

Black Dahlia chuckled, causing Filia to shudder.

 _ **"Let's see how that would have looked for real."**_

 _Filia…_

A dead man sprouted from the cemetery lawn. It had a hole in its forehead, bleached hair still clinging to its scalp and broken glasses hanging askew from the pitted remains of its ears. This thing lay beside Filia, staring with its blind white eyes into hers as rotting lips moved. _My… little girl…_ it whispered.

 _Baby…_ another hideous voice groaned. An arm came from behind to encircle her trembling frame tenderly. The hands of her captors forced a teary-eyed Filia to look behind her. There a woman's corpse with long blonde hair and no eyes breathed its fetid stench into her nostrils, the swollen tongue dangling loose as it whispered a grotesque attempt at a lullaby. _Go to sleep, Nightingale. Momma and Poppa love you so…_

It should have hurt. These were her parents. She knew it with absolute certainty. Filia had found something she would have given so much to learn only days ago. Faced with clear evidence of her past and heritage, there should have been at least a little pain to experience, an ache of longing and denied comfort. More than that, it should have been soul-crushing.

Instead Filia closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she gasped, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I don't… remember you…"

Behind the veil, Dahlia's eyes narrowed.

A purple flash lit them all briefly. Filia managed to twist her head around. Doing so allowed her to see Squigly standing triumphant over the remains of Double. Leviathan shrank down from his muscular limbed apotheosis. The ruined mass of flesh sought in vain to pull itself into a form that would permit it to continue fighting. Hands, faces and feet belonging to people they knew and others never met appeared briefly in the demon chum bucket. Squigly's nose wrinkled in disgust at this obscene display, and she dropped into a curtsey prior to obliterating her nemesis with an impending blast of fiery dragon breath.

All of a sudden Sienna Contiello went still.

 _ **"Sit, girl."**_

One single finger encased in an opera glove pointed down with this command. At once Squigly took a seat obediently. Leviathan collapsed quivering around her, undone by his mistress' inescapable compulsion to obey the Skullgirl. She stared forward blank-faced with stitched lips shut. Behind her Double lifted upright, once more assuming the favored guise of a benevolent holy woman. She cast a disdainful glance at the undead who had nearly brought her low. _"Both your fates shall be determined by the Trinity themselves, blasphemers!"_

Filia watched in despair as her only remaining ally had her mind and will cruelly taken away. The exhausted girl felt herself going numb. There's nothing left. We blew it…

Right then a great multitude of voices intruded upon the gathering. Filia looked up in time to see a swarming mass of bodies plummeting out of the dark sky above and land in their midst. In moments she recognized several of the Skull Bunnies from before, all of whom were engaged in battling a single fighter who bounced and whirled with cat-like agility in their midst.

"Don't worry, ladies! One order of filleted feline, coming up!"

Filia's heart soared. _Nadia!_

There came a _woomph_ sound. At the same time a white canister arced through the air and landed in the middle of this warring mob. There then followed a detonation that completely engulfed Miss Fortune and the Skull Bunnies, leaving only a gigantic turquoise bonfire burning atop the platform.

Black Dahlia cocked her gun-arm up on one shoulder, the barrel still smoking, and threw a baleful look at Double. _**"I thought you said she was contained."**_

" _Forgive me, priestess,"_ the hellish creature inclined forward in a show of penitence. _"It would appear I have underestimated this one."_

 _ **"You wouldn't be the first."**_ Black Dahlia looked Double up and down. Pinned to the floor, Filia noticed there was a quivering around the edges of that mysterious creature's form, as though it was having some difficulty maintaining this shape. In an instant she knew with utmost certainty that Dahlia was contemplating killing her compatriot now while it was wounded. The blame could be laid on Squigly or herself. That was exactly how she operated.

Instead Dahlia appeared to lose interest in such a prospect. Maybe she didn't want to aggravate the Trinity. Or it could be she considered herself more than capable of finishing off Double at a later date, wounded or not. Whatever the case her attention swung back around to where Filia lay helpless.

 _ **"Now, I believe it's past time we finally…"**_

Suddenly that murderous woman paused. She tilted her head ever so slightly back over one shoulder at the firepit housing the remains of her army. Within that holocaust a shadow arose. Bent over with pieces of itself dangling off, this resolute figure arched upright, recombining as it did.

Dahlia swiveled around fully with a glare. _**"Scratch that. One last loose end in need of tying up."**_

A hellish shriek sounded, and then Nadia Fortune came tearing out of the inferno, body still ablaze in places and limbs whipping around her as she sped towards the killer of her kin in a whirlwind of vengeful claws and teeth.

In response Black Dahlia lifted the cannon on her arm and fired once.

The shot hit Nadia in the head and checked her attack, causing her to go spinning about in a sort of rubbery-limbed dance. Ropes of meat and muscle retracted back into their founts as she found her footing. The astonished cat burglar blinked and reached up to touch the hole where her right eye had been.

Dahlia stalked forward, firing grimly time and again into the feral. That seemingly indestructible body jerked backward from every shot. A blast took her square in the chest that sent Miss Fortune pitching flat on her back. She shuddered and gave a wracking cough, chin dripping with fresh blood. Seconds later a triple-barreled weapon was pointed right in her face.

Nadia's one remaining eye met that of her killer. "Ca–!" she coughed weakly. _"Cat_ -ch you–!"

A shotgun blast of blue flame blew Miss Fortune's head to bits. That scar-covered body went limp. Black Dahlia said not a word as she examined the remains of her old foe for some signs of life, debating. Then her attention turned once more to Filia, who was too stunned at what she had seen to even wonder what might happen next. At a gesture more skeletons rose to clamp down on Nadia's remains, and then Dahlia came prowling towards the helpless girl, that same inhuman smile lighting up what little could be seen of her face.

Filia saw death approaching. There was nothing she could do to stop it. At the same time, though, movement caught her eye; down on the floor, reminiscent of bugs crawling. They grouped together. At the same time, a hand twitched, unzipping a fanny pack she vaguely remembered seeing from before.

This sound also served to warn Dahlia, who whirled around with her weapon raised against any assault. As she did one clawed foot lashed out to send something rolling and bouncing towards her. The mass murderer looked down in surprise to find the severed head of Nadia Fortune glaring back at her, a cylindrical device clamped between her teeth.

"… LATER!" the cat-girl screamed as she bit down on the detonator. Black Dahlia flung up a hand to cover her face right before the bomb exploded.

Filia had no idea what Stanley had cooked up to aid them, but it certainly made an impact. Literally. A column of yellow energy shot into the sky, enveloping the Skullgirl in its depths. The floating platform on which they stood shook violently. After a few seconds the blazing cylinder began to shrink, dwindling away to be replaced by a black cloud emerging from the new-made crater that carried the scent of charred corpses.

A pillbox hat with a veil came flying out of the smoke and dropped to rest atop a mound of Skull Bunny parts.

The clammy hands holding her down went limp. Filia scrambled up wiping desperately at herself to get the last lingering scraps of moldering flesh off. She looked over to where Squigly seemed to have recovered herself and now sat back with a dazed expression on her face. Of Double there was no sign. They stared at one another, then back at the smoldering wreckage. A noise caught their collective attention. Both were slightly appalled when their friend's headless body rose to sit with legs crossed. Red fluid came leaking out of the ground beneath her, sliding up the torso and finally congealing atop her neck. Moments later Nadia cricked her newly refashioned skull from side to side. She knocked a palm forcefully against its side and grimaced. "Ugh!" the comely criminal winced. "Think I picked up some parts that weren't mine on the way back."

Filia managed to speak at last. "Is it… over?"

As if waiting on this, someone began to laugh.

The girls glanced around in renewed dread. At first they looked at the still-smoking pit, but after a while all found themselves instead casting their eyes beyond it to where the Dahlia's hat had rolled.

The cap lay crookedly on a pile of body parts. Even so, they could all see quite clearly… behind the veil, an eye shone bright. A mouth was open in wildest laughter. The barest minimum of a face could be seen there. Yet there was no head to be found behind it.

In a rush the smoke from before went spiraling back down into the hole. Revealed there stood Skullgirl Dahlia. Her dress was somewhat ragged around the edges, and the opera cape had been shortened to little more than a neck wrap. Other than that there was no visible damage.

More than this, though, without the hat her face was finally uncovered. When she saw what was there, Filia's blood turned to ice.

The visage that stared out at them was shrunken and puckered. A cadaverous pallor infused its wrinkled flesh. It had neither eyes nor nose, only glowing pits. Lipless jaws were clamped shut on twisted teeth through which blue light shone. Yet throughout the abyss that menacing laughter still rang.

Filia realized she was looking not at a human being, but at the Skull Heart.

While she was too stunned at this revelation to react, Miss Fortune sprang into action. She sped forward yowling to aim a volley of mighty kicks at the exposed Heart. Dahlia's body matched her blow for blow, spinning and striking out with her mechanical legs at superhuman speeds. Nadia's limbs shattered from the crushing impact, blood and bone bursting from beneath her skin to send the valiant young woman crashing to the floor in a wrecked heap. All the same, the power of the Life Gem flowed through its mistress, knitting and connecting her back together as she growled in furious bloodlust.

Filia watched their clash in an agony of indecision. In spite of throwing everything they had at them, their enemies seemed no closer to defeat than when this started.

"Samson…"

" **Yeah?"**

She took a deep breath. "This… isn't enough. What we've used to beat others won't be enough to kill the Dahlia!"

" **So waddaya suggest?"**

Her fingers clenched hard against the gruesome turf. As she did, Filia felt something that did not register as bone or anything else organic. This seemed odd. Very carefully so as not to draw attention to what she was doing, she nudged a mass of shattered pelvises and ribs aside.

Beneath it metal gleamed. Her heart pounded as she realized what this was. A plan formed lightning fast.

As this exchange was taking place the Skullgirl glided over to retrieve her missing headwear. Placing it atop her ivory hair-bun, she turned around, and once more Black Dahlia watched them from behind the veil of death.

 _ **"I know this looks bad,"**_ she sketched a mocking bow, _**"but trust me, it only gets worse from here!"**_

Double emerged from wherever it had been hiding to stand near the bearer of the Skull Heart. The Skullgirl floated up once more, only now she was joined by other fell spirits. They came out of the ground or simply emerged from thin air. The dead; hundreds of them, even thousands. Burly men, humongous Gigans, even aquatic Dagonians. The Skull Bunnies reformed whole behind their captain as well. It was far more than just those the Dahlia had slain. Some were familiar to any resident of the Canopy Kingdom and beyond due to their terrifying legacy. A small girl in a maid's dress floated with weapons formed from cleaning tools. There too was a nurse armed for stealthy combat. Queen. Singer. Mother. All former Skullgirls, all disturbed from whatever unquiet graves held them to serve in their successor's bloody campaign. It would take power and courage beyond that of any mere mortal man to face such a ghastly horde.

Fortunately Filia had more than just strength going for her. She had a plan. "We need to go all out. Big as possible. Can you do that?"

" **I dunno… you might not be able to take that much power."**

She snorted capriciously. "What's the worst that could happen? I die?"

" **Point taken. Alright, here goes nothing!"**

Floating at the head of her army, Dahlia took note when Filia came to her feet. She had been enjoying the sight of Miss Fortune struggling madly against the revived Fishbone Gang but was more than willing to overlook the fight's inevitable conclusion. The Skullgirl gazed at her chosen target in keen anticipation of whatever strategy the girl might have concocted.

Her hopes were met when insane amounts of hair erupted from the Parasite host's head. They wound all around one another to create a form so massive Filia herself was lost to view. It was the size of a wooly mammoth and just as hairy. This mass of dark purple filaments and Theonic energy braced its spindly arms and legs against the ground before giving a terrific war cry. Samson beat his clawed fists against his chest. **"COME ON!"** the ancient warrior thundered in challenge.

With a smile the Dahlia raised a hand to send her legions surging down in an overwhelming attack. So focused was she on this impressive specimen, she almost failed to notice the tiny figure still down at its source. It looked like she was holding something. Oh, Filia, what are you…?

The girl came fully into view, and before the living dead knew what was happening Filia spun around and hurled what she had found straight at the Dahlia. It came spinning at her, propelled with the strength of two arms augmented by Samson's filaments. Sensing imminent danger to herself and without needing to know anything more, Dahlia fired her Skull Cannon at the approaching missile. To her disbelief the supernatural shot pinged off that whirling windmill with no effect whatsoever.

In doing so she finally realized what it was. The Buer Drive; a weapon crafted by the very Anti-Skullgirl Labs that Dahlia once belonged to, specifically designed to resist the power of a Skullgirl. Left behind by Painwheel, this four-pronged throwing star tore through several zombies and even a former Skullgirl with ease as it whirred towards its target like a heat-seeking helicopter blade.

On instinct Dahlia reached over to grab Double and fling her into the Living Weapon's path. _"WHAT…?!"_ the Trinity's devoted follower emitted a cry which turned into a gibbering screech as the Drive chopped her apart. And still it came on. Enraged, the Skullgirl flew backwards, aiming her grenade launcher at the approaching death blade.

Too late. The Buer Drive sliced through before disappearing into the formless void. Behind it Skullgirl Dahlia fell to the ground with a disturbing thud, cut clean in half at the waist.

This time there wasn't even a chance to wonder what might come next. The world simply exploded.

The dimension which they now found themselves in was filled with corpses, those belonging to men, animals, and creatures so fantastical they might have been the stuff of legends. Ghastly wails filled the air like the screams of the damned. The platform on which their battle took place up 'til now had burst apart. Meteors of bone spun lazily past one another in defiance of anything resembling gravity. Filia clung to one of those roaming charnel houses in fright as everything she had taken for granted about existence stopped working all at once. The dead bodies which made up her perch had come alive to some extent, shifting and scrabbling against one another. Samson remained in his full released form, but he was having more trouble than her getting his bearings as his great hands and feet sought to find purchase on a much smaller area than had previously existed. Where _are_ we?!

 _ **"YOU BRAT!"**_

Her head came up, and Filia found the nightmare had actually worsened. In the very center of their new deathly realm floated the Skullgirl, a frightful sun around which everything else here orbited. She was now just a legless torso, but behind her there loomed a monstrous shadow version of Black Dahlia that copied her movements perfectly. This demonic entity fastened its blazing eyes upon Filia, who shrank in horror from what she was being made to witness.

 _ **"** **YOU THINK YOU CAN CLOSE THE CURTAIN ON ME?! LIKE THIS IS ALL SOME STORYBOOK AND YOU CAN JUST REWRITE THE ENDING IF IT DOESN'T SUIT YOU?! THIS ISN'T A FAIRY TALE LIKE YOUR PARENTS USED TO READ YOU! IT'S THE KIND WHERE LITTLE GIRLS END UP CHOPPED TO BLOODY SCREAMING BITS WITH THEIR HEARTS GETTING EATEN! I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAM, FILIA! THERE IS! NO! OTHER! ENDING!"**_

A form landed higher atop the orbiting sphere she clung to, and Filia looked up in horror to find a blank-faced Squigly gazing at her from this elevated position. Leviathan hung limp from the cavity in her cranium. He was either unconscious or dead. The zombie girl reached for her with clearly hostile intent. More of the dead had apparently zoomed in on her position and came flooding towards them in a tidal wave. Samson reared up to meet them.

"Squigly!" the teary-eyed teen whispered. "Please…!"

No recognition passed over her friend's face. Instead she grasped Filia by the wrist and lifted her up, taking the hulking Samson along with them. Next thing she knew dry fleshless fingers had twined around her throat and begun to squeeze.

Staring into the Contiello heiress' unresponsive eye, Filia did the only thing she could think of. Reaching forward she grabbed the stitches holding Squigly's lips together and ripped them all out with a convulsive jerk.

A gasp passed those suddenly parted lips for the first time in fourteen years. Squigly dropped Filia and stumbled back, looking all around for some explanation of what might be transpiring. Whatever dark spell that had been placed on her seemed to disperse momentarily, and Leviathan lifted upright to peer about. "What has happened?!" he demanded, sounding seriously put out.

Squigly noticed Filia crouched on the miniature moon in front of them. She threw a long sleeve up to cover her mouth in shock, eye going wide.

"F… Fil-i-a?" an unfamiliar voice rasped from deep in her dusty throat.

It was the first time she had heard her friend truly speak. But Filia could not find the time to dwell on this as Samson went lurching off to one side, taking her with him as he grappled against nameless undead horrors whose empty eye sockets flared blue.

Upon noticing this, the blue-skinned bard flung out both arms and tilted her head back. Closing her eye, Squigly drew in a breath and sang aloud.

It was only one note, sustained for several seconds. But in this sound was a purity that had not been heard in their world for over a decade. Upon perceiving it, her fellow dead went rigid, what could be seen of their faces lapsing into a sort of tranquility. The song spoke to them, telling of rest and heartsease, the beautiful gift of death which was the one thing that could never be taken away by anyone. Yet somehow it had. Their eternal repose had been defiled, subverted, profaned! And the source of that desecration was not far off.

As one, the undead menagerie looked to where the Skullgirl hung like a dark mandala at the center of their universe.

 _ **"No!"**_ Dahlia hissed.

They all came at her in a rush which she met head-on. The giant living shadow she now cloaked herself in grasped the oncoming attackers in its huge hands and crushed them to dust. Dahlia fired blasts of energy from within her protector's embrace. Together they resembled some multi-armed goddess of an exotic religion. Even when it was only one against millions, Black Dahlia did not give in.

Squigly turned to look at Filia. "I can't match her power for long!" she said. "Eventually they will all fall under her sway again, myself included. I'll finish things before that can happen. Try and get away from here while you still can."

"What?!" the younger girl demanded. "No way, we'll fight her together! I'm not running away while you sacrifice yourself for my sake!"

"Filia…" A smile turned that blessed little mouth upwards. Taking the living girl's hands, she leaned forward and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. "Believe me, a friend like you is worth any sacrifice."

Before Filia could respond the slender pair disengaged and hopped back. Squigly spread her skirts and curtsied with a smile, while at the same time her partner offered them a graceful serpentine bow. His tail then ignited in a jet of purple flame that sent them soaring towards where Black Dahlia waged her one-woman war on creation.

" **Leviathan, you snooty tapeworm, get back here!"** Samson shouted after his old ally.

"Tally-ho, old friend! You've finally regained some honor," the wyrm called back. "Keep one another safe now, lest you make me a liar in death!" So saying he then swelled to enormous proportions, becoming a heavenly dragon with purple mane and black claws on four stout legs. The opera singer and her ancient guardian soared onwards, emitting an awesome ball of violet flame at the Dahlia. That malevolent figure raised six arms both solid and shadow to bring them crashing down on the approaching pair. Fiery energy of different colors soon surrounded their battle until they were lost to view inside a white-hot star that incinerated anything which came near it.

Despite their allies' encouragement, the other Parasite duo did not take this opportunity to escape. Samson swung from one roving meteorite to another, agile as a gorilla in the jungle. They passed unnoticed through the undead throngs. However as Filia landed on one skeletal celestial object in particular, her foot snagged on something and she fell with a yelp. Turned back around, the girl was shocked to find a bubbling liquid face watching her.

" _You shall not… be allowed…"_ Double gagged, _"… to impede… my masters!"_

The deceptive trickster kept a hold on her shoe as it reached for Filia's throat. However at that moment something cannonballed into Double to send them both careening off with an audible 'splat'. Thinking it was Samson who had saved her, Filia was thrilled to see Nadia Fortune wrestling with the living slurry, their mercurial bodies seeking a hold against one another that proved hard to find.

"Go after that damn murderer!" the daring bandit shouted while scratching at numerous eyes. "Give her one for every member of the Fishbone Gang, you hear me?!"

" _Worthless!"_ her semi-solid opponent opened a huge mouth and tentacles looped around those scarred limbs. _"I shall drink your blood to the last drop, until everything that allows you to live… is a part of me!"_

The crushing jaws bit down around her as Miss Fortune strained mightily to keep them from closing, arms and legs trembling with the effort. "Is that a fact?" she sneered. "Well, maybe there's something worth stealing inside your rotten intestines. As soon as I find out, I'll be teaching you a little move I like to call 'Cat-Gutted'!" Her narrowed green eyes flashed over to Filia. "Get moving, will ya?! It's all or nothing this time!"

Considering what was at stake, she felt they had no choice but to obey. The last they saw of the struggling fighters, Nadia abruptly let go and went diving straight down Double's gullet, causing the body-snatcher to hop around while contorting into painful-looking positions. The two sped forward, each praying silently that they weren't already too late.

At last they landed on the planetoid which served as the ostensible center of the deathly galaxy. The previous all-consuming supernova was no more. Instead Black Dahlia and her avatar remained where they had previously been. Only now, a blackened Leviathan hung in her grasp, resembling an earthworm shriveled up on a hot sidewalk. Of Squigly no trace remained, not even ashes.

Upon seeing this Filia screamed louder than she had ever thought possible. Furious beyond measure, the young woman and her partner flew at the underworld goddess. Bolts of raging energy tore at them, but Samson merely opened up holes in his frame to let them pass through without harm, while Filia proved too small to hit. Huge hair-claws closed against those of the Shadow Dahlia with a noise like cymbals crashing together. This conflict was echoed in miniature as Filia drove towards what remained of Black Dahlia. The Skull Gun reemerged to point at the girl, but she closed so swiftly there was no chance to fire. Uttering an angry shout Filia knocked that hateful weapon aside with one hand, grabbing hold at the elbow to prevent it from being turned on her again. Her other encircled the Dahlia's left wrist and forced it out of the reach of any bladed weapons or what-not that might be turned against her.

Long spikes shot out of the gloved forearm to pierce her hand from one side to another, yet still she did not let go. With a manic strength born of grievous loss the teenager managed to hold the undead cyborg back. Dahlia's face loomed before her, mouth twisted in a snarl. Even this held no fear for her. All Filia could think of was the people who had lost their lives to this vile lunatic. Her parents, Squigly and her family, the Fishbone Gang, even poor Carol. The memory of how her friend had died inspired Filia, and without hesitation she began to smash her forehead into the hidden Skull Heart, trying to crush Black Dahlia's skull in just as Painwheel had done to Heartsease Val.

As she reared back for another blow, Filia felt something press against her stomach. She looked down to spy a bone arm made of metal had sprouted smoothly from the Dahlia's cannon. It held a small derringer in its grip.

The gun went off, sending two shots into her belly.

Filia's eyes flew wide in surprise. Very slowly she let go of Dahlia and slumped down atop the small planetoid beneath them. She gave a cough and blood came spurting through her lips as pain ripped through her. Filia could not believe how tired she felt, and so did not resist when she toppled over on her side. A moment later Samson fell beside her. Being linked, the strength of one depended upon the other. Grievous injury to her was also transferred to him and vice-versa. As such he could no longer maintain the inestimable level of power which he had been riding up to this point.

 _ **" _I_ believe I told you," **_Dahlia's pleased voice chuckled from far above them, _**"how this would all turn out, princess."**_ There came a spine-tingling sound as a heavy hooked blade designed for penetrating the rib cage slid from a compartment on her arm. She bent down to loom over Filia, a barbaric butcher straight out of the darkest fairy tales. _**"Let's have a look at that heart, shall we?"**_

" **Like… hell!"**

What happened next felt like every nerve ending being ripped out of her body. Filia screamed, awash in uttermost ruination. Samson did the same, as the Parasite forcibly _peeled_ free of his host and launched himself at the shocked Dahlia. Before she could stop him he had latched onto her head and dove into that defenseless ivory coiffure.

" **I'll never let you… get my girl, you nasty hag!"**

Dahlia hissed in outrage. Her gun transformed back into an arm, and she began to claw at her own scalp in an effort to rip him loose. Cobalt flames erupted all through her hair. Both Skullgirl and Parasite roared in anguish now, twisting away to go spinning off as they sought to destroy one another, leaving the mortally wounded teen far behind them.

Filia lay where she had fallen. Blood ran from her nose and ears. The separation meant she would die soon if not reconnected to Samson. More horrible than this was the sudden onslaught of memories which were no longer being held back. Her past, her family, the life she once lived; it all hit full force. Even as she sagged dying, the sum total of her lost experiences came crashing down on Filia. She remembered her parents' real voices, untainted by the throes of death. The rumors that surrounded her family, and the stranglehold that her grandfather Lorenzo kept on all of them. Hopes and dreams… the love of those closest to her… the faintest stirrings of regret and recrimination…

A tiny glimmer caught her eye. She stared at it entranced. Focusing her fading vision, Filia found she was looking at a thin silver ring on the finger of a bony hand that stuck up before her. There was a spike driven through the skeletal palm covered in a dried blackish-red substance. For some reason she couldn't take her eyes off that tarnished engagement band, as though it called to her, saying…

' _She killed me… she killed my baby… please… stop her…'_

Yes.

Reaching out, the dying maiden took hold of that hand by the wrist and snapped it off. She hefted her makeshift weapon and rolled off the asteroid into empty space.

Filia knew only seconds of life might remain as she plummeted towards the moving epicenter of this hellish maelstrom that was the struggle between Samson and Dahlia. For a moment it seemed like she would veer wide of it. But then a huge loop of flaming hair swung in her direction. Without thinking the girl seized hold of this offered support, unaware of the pain that came washing through her as a result. Instead she swung on the vine, aiming at the brightest spot in the whole conflagration where Black Dahlia hung raging. That bisected madwoman tore savagely at her own flaming hair, ripping out great hanks that dripped with the blood of Samson. He was already dead, Filia realized. I am too.

But I'll take her with us.

The suddenness of her heart stopping took Filia by surprise. Yet even this wasn't enough to dissuade her as she crossed the remaining distance between them. The two women slammed into one another, and as that creature of pure evil tore madly for her heart, the blood-encrusted spike Filia bore drove through Black Dahlia's veiled eye and pierced deep into the Skull Heart itself.

The world fell out from under Filia, and then she was falling, at peace, while above her a white light grew and grew until it washed away everything else. She could hear the Skullgirl screaming in agony and knew she had succeeded; against all odds, the Skull Heart had finally been destroyed. All the previous Skullgirls that had been resurrected now swarmed around Dahlia, dragging her into the out-of-control pit of her own power backlash. The remaining dead were crying out as their souls came free of the bonds placed upon them by that broken instrument. Many sounded joyful.

But over them all was a voice wracked by unimaginable sorrow. It was so awful it caused Filia to look up in search of who could be experiencing such grief.

High overhead the limitless black ceiling had changed to blazing white, a swirling horseshoe galaxy made entirely of stars. Illuminated by this celestial outpouring, a mother clutched her dying daughters, weeping in agony as they were taken from her once again. Seeing this, Filia couldn't help but feel sympathy for that poor woman.

I'm sorry. I know it's all my fault. You love your daughters the way my parents loved me. It hurts so bad to lose someone dear to us. You just wanted to be together again. If only we could all be… together…

Filia looked down and saw the maelstrom around the doomed Skull Heart. The demon at its core continued to howl as she was sucked into Hell, while above the goddess wept. Caught between them, Filia felt like her heart was growing, flying out of her body. I wish it wasn't like this. I wish we all could have a second chance!

Here she looked to heaven for aid. The brave soul petitioned those divine figures high above. I wish for… a world where we can all still live… your family… and mine. It seemed to her the goddess took note, observing her tiny worshipper with a grief-haunted face that was nonetheless eerily beautiful. Can she hear me, I wonder?

Then the light began to wax in strength. Filia found herself awash in this all-powerful force. It drew her inside, offering comfort that went beyond anything she had ever known. Time and Space blended all around her, held in place by what she realized was nothing less than Life itself. Filia Medici gazed around in wonder.

Is this…

… _**the End…?**_


	4. Epilogue: In the End

Filia Medici paused and looked around. For a moment she felt certain that she was forgetting something…

"Filia!" Nestra called. "Don't space out. You'll get lost."

"What?" A shake of her head and the sensation passed. "Coming!"

The girl hurried down the street to rejoin her schoolmates. Penelope Prospero hung back to let her catch up, only to lean in closer as they walked along. "Were you having a romantic interlude, I wonder?"

She threw the other girl a withering look but chose not to respond. However Nestra didn't hesitate to join in on the lighthearted teasing. "Oh, right. Just what did that Dagonian soda jerk say to make you so flustered back there?"

"Nothing!" Filia protested with a grin. "I mean…" Here her voice became a mumble and she looked away blushing. "He said I had great eyes, that's all."

The other girls burst out in delighted laughter, all except for Carol, who frowned and clutched her skirts. "That boy looked to be in college. He shouldn't have been flirting with girls our age."

"He wasn't flirting with me, Carol!" Filia protested in a sort of embarrassed joy, glad to see her friends happy but wishing it didn't come at her expense. "We were just talking!"

"For six minutes, _oui?"_ Mitzi Bisset giggled. _"Tres risqué!"_

"Oh, you guys are terrible," she huffed and walked faster with them making catcalls and enjoining her to not take it seriously. They all had on school uniforms which made their group stand out on the streets of New Meridian. It was the weekend, and Penelope's parents had gotten them all tickets to see a midday showing of the riotous musical 'Spamilton'. Word of mouth gave it high marks while more serious critiques labeled it 'an atrocious assault upon the ears with no sense of history, continuity or focus'. The leading male was a former professional wrestler turned actor whom everyone agreed could not carry a tune but was so hyped during his performances one couldn't help but enjoy it. They had stopped for a milkshake before the show and now Filia was paying the price for that.

Still, she enjoyed any opportunity to be with her friends. Last week they had fun at the museum, peaking into sarcophagi and marveling at examples of ancient Gigan agricultural tools. There was a mummy on display in a glass case that supposedly belonged to a long-dead Theon. Filia refused to admit how much this one had unnerved her. The shrunken dried-up corpse wore a cat mask, and she could have sworn a presence was watching her from behind its eye holes as though desperately craving something she had to offer. A week before that they visited the Cirque des Cartes at Uncle Vitale's invitation. The performers were all amazing. Mitzi couldn't stop gushing over their outfits and had to practically be dragged away, with Cerebella eagerly taking her up on an offer to design a new outfit. Dad seemed upset, but she liked to think this might go a way towards healing whatever rift existed between him and his brother.

At last the group arrived at the music hall. Filia had been here many times before, but she always appreciated a chance to drop by. It boasted an expansive outdoor lobby where paparazzi were known to mob the red carpet during premiers in the hopes of snapping pics of the latest celebrities on their way inside. Right now it was the afternoon so relatively few people were in attendance. Instead since they were still a little early the girls wandered around inspecting the gift shop or admiring posters for upcoming events.

Filia stood before a sign advertising a new production of 'Annie Goes Into the Woods'. She had a feeling New Meridian would be getting another 'unofficial' visit from Princess Parasoul and her little sister. The heir-apparent was rumored to be a huge fan of anything related to that particular brand.

"Walking is such a pain," a plaintive voice sighed from behind her. "Mother, I hate being mortal!"

In the reflection of the display case's glass three people walked past, and for some reason Filia turned to watch. Their backs were to her by this point as they headed towards the street. The tallest was dressed in white with a crown-like head ornament, while another with long mauve-colored hair and an hourglass figure wore deep green clothes of an unusual cut. The last one made her think of their homeroom teacher Mrs. Victoria, though that prim and strict disciplinarian wouldn't be caught dead wearing the revealing outfit this woman had on.

"Now, dear, don't be that way," the lady in white admonished her dark-haired daughter. "What else could I do? At least this way we can all still be together, for as long as time permits."

"I don't mind," their green-garbed companion said with the hint of a smile. "There's all sorts of interesting knickknacks to collect still. Mother, can we stop by the comic book shop on our way home? It's Free Comic Book Day and I want to see if my subscriptions have come in."

"That sounds fine, love. And Venus, don't pout like that, it'll give you wrinkles."

"Wrinkles? _That's_ on the table too? This is going to be a very long lifetime, I can tell."

"One can hope, my darling," their mother smiled and hugged her children affectionately. "One can only hope."

Filia watched the loving family as they made their way to a white limo parked on the curb. Waiting for them were two girls dressed in maid costumes. One had short red hair and seemed to constantly be adjusting the collar of her dress as though it irritated her. The other sported long ponytails on either side of her head and had a more mature dignified air despite being quite small. She remonstrated her colleague at one point, causing the redhead to subside in sulky fashion. As the trio approached the maids opened a door apiece, allowing their mistresses to climb in. The officious one closed the doors behind them while her partner skipped over to leap into the front passenger seat. Turning to follow, the tiny maid noticed Filia and paused.

Their eyes met.

"… _et BACK here! Don't you dare try to hide from ME! FILIA!"_

" _Come on!" the little girl in the maid costume yanked on Filia's hand, forcing her to run. "Keep up!" She unslung a huge shotgun and fired back down the alley as they splashed through puddles, the rain falling to chill their skin._

 _Filia still only wore her nightgown. Her feet were bare and she was shaking from cold and terror. Guns cracked behind them. People were shouting and calling out. When she tried to think, all that came to her was the sight of the feathers drifting through the air, and Black Dahlia crouched by the bed holding a bloodstained pillow._

 _She nearly fell. The armed housemaid jerked her forward and kept moving, forcing the traumatized teen to follow. At last they came upon a small car parked in an alley. The maid threw open the backseat and shoved Filia inside before clambering into the driver's seat. Blocks on the pedals allowed her small feet to reach them, and the getaway vehicle went peeling off through the downpour._

" _Did you… get him?"_

 _Lying shivering on the leather upholstery, Filia fuzzily realized there was someone sitting in front alongside her erstwhile rescuer. It was she who had spoken. Whoever it might be, the woman was clearly in pain by the sound of her voice and the way she doubled over clutching her stomach._

" _No." The little maid responded calmly, though there was an undercurrent of fury in the way she whipped the wheel around to take curves sharper than one should under these road conditions. Filia bounced from side to side as they sped through the night. "That damn bodyguard of his got in the way." She glanced briefly at her accomplice before turning her attention to the road ahead, eyes barely above the rim of the dashboard. "You're hit."_

 _In response the dark-haired lady gave a cough. Blood spattered against the windshield, and she lapsed shuddering into her seat. "I'll be fine." She wiped a forearm across her chin. "Samson, are they following us?"_

" _ **Not that I can see. But it's hard to make out anything with all this rain."**_

 _Filia couldn't tell who else had just spoken. Her body was cold as ice, teeth chattering, limbs shaking without stop. Nothing in her world made sense anymore._

" _ **Now that we've gotten up to speed, who's the kid?"**_

 _The driver flicked a glance in the rearview mirror at their other passenger. "Her name's Filia. We ran into each other while I was making my escape. Dahlia seemed pretty intent on getting her back. I thought she might be useful."_

 _Filia realized they were talking about her but couldn't seem to care. It felt like her brain was shutting down from the overload of horrible experiences she had gone through tonight._

" _By the looks of her… she's a working girl. Might have been… in the wrong place at the wrong time. That would explain why they were… chasing her." The wounded woman gasped and clenched her jaw in fresh pain. After a bit she managed to fight it down enough to speak. "Marie… I heard some of the goons saying… one of the sons got plugged. Was that you?"_

" _I wish," replied the one called Marie._

" _It's possible that… the old bastard used this as an opportunity to… clean house. If so she might be a witness. She can… offer… testimo–!"_

 _At this the woman bent over and vomited a huge amount of blood all over the upholstery. The maid abruptly swerved into an alley and came to a stop. As the engine idled growling, she examined her partner up and down. Something shifted atop the woman's head. Yellow orbs peered at her, a silent communication seeming to pass between them. "You're not going to make it," Marie said._

" _Says you," her affiliate spit. "I'm not about to punch out just yet!"_

" _It's not up to either of us at this stage." Her eyes drifted down to where Filia lay. "Will that do?"_

" _ **Yeah,"**_ _the mysterious figure spoke in subdued tones._

" _Hey, what are you–?!"_

" _ **Sorry, babe. But I can't afford to die now. There's still things I gotta do!"**_

 _The woman's voice was ragged with outraged betrayal. "Samson, you bastard, not–!"_

" _ **Goodbye…"**_

 _There came a scream, and then Filia felt something hot slide over her head. It tightened like a helmet, making her whimper. Moments later the pressure relented, allowing her to sag in relief._

 _After a bit she sat up, feeling woozy and shaken. Why is my scalp itching? She reached up to touch it, then noticed red eyes reflected in the mirror. Who is that?_

 _Marie had gotten out of the car and opened the passenger door to drag out the limp body. She laid it down as carefully as she could, grimacing with the effort of moving this deadweight even that much. When she looked up, Filia had joined her. Lightning cracked, briefly illuminating the coiling creature now inhabiting the girl's hair. They stood there surrounded by garbage cans and tainted wastewater with a corpse lying between them._

" _ **Do you have to just leave her like that?"**_

" _She was my friend too," Marie stated. Rain washed down a child's face that held no more emotion than a statue. But her eyes stayed locked with Samson's, as if daring him to dispute this assertion. Eventually he looked away._ _ **"So what now?"**_

" _We'll split up here and meet at the church as agreed. Anyone else who survived will go to their rendezvous points. We can decide what to do afterwards. 'Til then, be careful."_

 _He gave only a grunt. Without another word the vengeful maid got back in her car and drove off. Filia watched the red tail lights vanish into the dark and rain._

" _ **Hey, kid,"**_ _that same voice spoke from somewhere above her head._ _ **"Got anywhere we can lay low for a couple of days? Someplace safe?"**_

 _Safe? The question made no sense. Where was safe now? What did that even mean? And who am I talking to? Maybe I really did go crazy._

" _School," she finally decided. "My dorm room. I want to go there. It's empty. Vacation."_

" _ **Works for me."**_

 _Together the two of them stumbled through the rain. Filia realized she was crying at some point and didn't know how to stop. They made it there on foot, though it took the rest of the night. Without her key, Samson had to pick the lock for them to get into the dorms. Filia had started to realize something very strange was happening to her but still wasn't sure how to react. Was any of this real? Is it all a dream? She sat down on her bed, and the moment she did the realization of how tired she really was hit. Filia slumped over to let her head touch the pillow, but the moment she did the crying started again. Deep, wracking sobs that caused her whole body to convulse around them. Maybe when I wake up it really will have been a dream._

" _Make this be a dream," she wept. "Make it all go away!"_

" _ **Kid, I… look, don't worry. When you wake up… well, everything's gonna be better. I promise."**_

Filia stood in the theater entrance. Had someone just spoken to her? The voice seemed so familiar, but she couldn't place it no matter how she tried. Confused, she turned back to the maid once more. They stared at one another. The tiny servant looked quickly all around, then back at her. And then she said something. Despite the distance between them, Filia could still clearly make out the words. _'Be careful.'_

Before she had a chance to respond, that mysterious housekeeper climbed into the limo, which drove off a second later.

"Something wrong?" Penelope and Carol strolled up to her with two boxes of candy popcorn. Filia gaped at them for a moment, at a loss for what just happened. Eventually she decided not to make a big deal about it.

"Just spacing out again," she reassured them. Penelope apparently took her words at face value, but Carol frowned in concern. Hastily she sought to change the subject. "You guys ready? Where are the others?"

"Nestra went to the powder room and Mitzi…" Here Penelope glanced around. "Hey, where is Mitzi?"

The trio scanned the area but could see no sign of the foreign exchange student. Were it not for that strange encounter just now Filia wouldn't have been so worried. But she was, and the other girls quickly picked up on it. Together they dashed out to the street, and almost immediately ran into their lost friend skipping towards them up the sidewalk with a delighted smile.

Filia couldn't believe how fast her heart had been going until it actually slowed to a more reasonable pace. "Mitzi, don't go wandering off like that! You still don't know your way around the city." She noticed something different then. "Where did you get that?"

The curly-haired girl tittered as she looked down at a rose pinned to her jacket which hadn't been there before. _"_ I bought it from ze flower girl. _Magnifique, non?"_

She then pointed back the way she came. Filia looked where indicated and felt weird all over again. The 'flower girl' turned out to be a homeless woman who had set up a small box stand to sell flowers close by the music hall. She hunched over her products while people walked on by pretending not to see her. Like she didn't exist. The sight of this stirred Filia's heart to pity. Initially intending to lecture Mitzi, she instead felt proud of her friend for showing sympathy to those down on their luck. It was an example worth emulating.

"It's beautiful," the Medici heir stated. "Think I'll get one too."

"Filia, wait!" She turned back to a shocked Carol, who was looking at her like she might be crazy. "Are you serious? Don't go over there, that person is… a hobo! They're dangerous! They use drugs! And they smell!"

"Oh, c'mon, Carol," her friend sighed in admonishment. "Show a little charity. I'm sure there's nothing to be afraid of." And she started to walk forward, feeling only a little ridiculous at how unnerved this really made her.

"Well… I'm coming too, then!" Moments later Carol rushed up to join her. Mitzi was delightedly regaling Penelope with the traditional uses of flowers in dresses, giving her an excuse not to join them. Filia couldn't blame her. Despite any good intentions this just felt… wrong, somehow.

Determinedly she forced herself past such ungracious feelings. Her parents would be ashamed to think their daughter could be so coldhearted. At last the two schoolgirls came up to the shabby little stand. "Excuse me." Filia tried to put an extra bit of cheer in her voice. "Can we see your flowers?"

"Of course."

She shivered at those words. Carol clutched her arm protectively. The homeless woman crouched before them dressed in greasy rags. Even hunched down she was so tall her head still crested well over Filia's. A filthy white shawl covered her shoulders. The term 'flower girl' was even more inappropriate up close, for this lady seemed positively ancient. 'Wasted' might have been an apt description. Her bare arms were withered and wrinkled, thin as twigs with sagging flesh hanging off them. Besmirched and yellowed fingernails had been chewed off. Her greasy unwashed hair was long and fell all around her face, white curls gone yellow with dirt and age. This combined with her hunched position prevented them from seeing her face. Oddly enough despite Carol's tactless comment from before, there was absolutely no scent coming off the woman at all.

The flowers might have had something to do with that. Realizing she was staring, Filia brought herself back to business. She examined the street vendor's wares and was pleased by their beauty and freshness. The blooms must have been cut just this morning. Filia couldn't recognize most of them, but they reminded her of certain exotic samples they had seen on a school field trip to the greenhouse.

"I'll take this one," Carol piped up, selecting a crocus. She held out a bill gingerly, flinching when the lady took it from her without a word. Filia recognized how upsetting this experience was for her friend and decided not to press her luck. "They're all very lovely," she affirmed, and reached towards a big pretty purple flower.

"No, dear."

Her hand paused. She regarded the flower seller in surprise, who still hadn't raised her head.

"That one's Bittersweet Nightshade. Not fit for good girls who are so kind to an old woman." The homeless lady reached down and selected a large scarlet flower bursting with petals and color. It was the size of an apple and just as red. She held this magnificent specimen out in in one gnarled palm.

"This one's for you, my dear."

Filia stared at the offering as though entranced. She could never recall having seen a flower like this before. It was the color of… blood, with petals like tiny knives sprouting in a multitude. So bedazzled, she failed to notice a sinewy hand drift beneath the table.

Beside her Carol gave a gasp and shoved Filia hard. The girl stumbled and tripped to land on her back. Shocked, she looked up in time to see the flash of light off a knife as Carol fell screaming clutching at her face. And then the homeless woman lunged forward, smashing aside the stand to send flowers raining all around them. She sprang violently upon Filia with a bloodied butcher knife held high in both hands.

Panic mobilized the girl to action. She reached up and seized the spindly wrists on the downswing. To her shock those arms proved to be possessed of a devilish strength, continuing to press down despite her terror-fueled efforts. Horrified, the girl looked up at the creature crouched atop her. Through the mass of filthy hair, a single lunatic eye blazed madly. Broken yellow teeth were bared in an unholy smile of pure delight.

"No Hairball!" the madwoman rasped. "No _Skull Heart!_ Just you, and me! FILIA-A-A-A-A!"

The point of the knife sank towards Filia's heart, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Is this really happening? Am I about to…?

Suddenly the killer stiffened. Her mouth opened wide on a rattling hiss. Then slowly, like the petal of a flower falling, she slumped over to one side and lay facedown on the pavement, dirty hair spilling all around her.

Filia stared up at the sky panting. In a dazed fashion she realized her hands were still locked white-knuckled around the crazy lady's wrists and looked over to pull them free. Only then did she notice the ivory spear sticking out of the woman's side right where her heart would be.

As she watched in confusion the shaft popped out, blood dripping from its arrowhead tip. It went coiling back to its source where another woman stood. "Are you alright, Filia?"

She sat up blinking in disbelief. "Miss Contiello! I mean… Squigly!"

The world-famous opera singer came gliding forward to crouch beside them. Her Theon partner Leviathan wound around his mistress. The tip of his tail was stained with red gore. She examined the dead woman's remains critically where they lay unmoving, one eye hidden by a fall of soft brown hair. Then Sienna 'Squigly' Contiello took Filia's hand and helped her back up.

Without sparing another glance for the creature she had killed, the elegant debutante led her over to where Carol sat weeping. Several more people had noticed and come running over to help, and a great many voices could be heard shouting. Penelope and Mitzi huddled beside their wounded friend, while Nestra came shoving through the crowd to join them. Anxiously Filia knelt by her side as well, eyes widening in distress. A long bleeding slash cut diagonally across Carol's face from cheek to scalp. Thankfully it hadn't blinded her, but the blood simply poured out, causing one eye to shut as the girl reached up a trembling uncertain hand to touch the gash. She cringed, then noticed Filia and actually smiled. "Oh, good," Carol murmured. "You're safe."

"Carol!" Filia gasped. "You saved me!"

She lunged forward to hug her, but Carol shied back. "Oh, no, Filia, you shouldn't. I'll get blood on your uniform." Her open eye was glassy, causing Filia to worry she might have gone into shock.

"Pardon me." At that moment Leviathan snaked down between them. He examined the bleeding teen's face. Then without further ado the white dragon licked all along her wound from one end to another. In an instant the blood flow halted. As they all watched amazed, Squigly crouched to begin gently wiping off the remaining blood with a clean handkerchief. When she was finished Carol gazed at them in bewilderment. Reaching up the selfless girl touched her injury, flinching, only to give a small exclamation of surprise upon finding it had closed completely. The faintest pale scar remained, thin as a hair. "Oh!" she blinked. "It doesn't hurt anymore!"

"Wow!" Nestra breathed. "Theons really are something else! Wish I had one."

"Pray forgive this intrusion," Leviathan spoke in his courtly tones. "While medical technology has progressed to a great extent nowadays, under the circumstances I felt the young lady deserved as little discomfort as possible. There will be a scar, I'm afraid, but nowhere near as prominent as would have occurred if we left the wound to heal naturally."

Having assured herself of this, Filia wasted no time in wrapping Carol in an emotional hug. She started crying then, and before long the other girls did as well, expressing appreciation for their friend's brave action. Squigly and Leviathan stood watching them with relieved affection. A crowd milled about demanding to know what happened while others stood at a wary distance around the dead woman's body. The five teens merely wept and laughed in unsurpassed joy at being safe and alive on that sunny street.

* * *

The lights of ambulances and police cars flashed in the late afternoon sun. Sienna Contiello finished giving her statement to a uniformed police officer. She then watched from a distance as Captain of Detectives Ben Birdland spoke to the girls, all of whom were sitting with blankets wrapped around them and holding mugs of hot cocoa. These comfort items came courtesy of the 'Spamilton' show's main star, who had come barreling out when he heard there was a fight going on. Squigly felt willing to forgive the big lug a lot for such reckless bravery, but she still intended to have a talk with him tonight over dinner. He wasn't in the ring anymore, after all.

Ben flipped closed his notebook and leaned down to pat little Carol gently on the shoulder. She grinned and ducked her head in adolescent embarrassment, after which he bid them all goodbye and came striding over to join her. "That girl is lucky you were here, Miss Contiello."

"Our families have been allies for generations." She tickled Leviathan's chin while offering him a warm smile. "And you and I have known each other for years, Ben. Even if you are on the clock, will you not refer to me as Squigly?"

He crooked a smile but ignored the request as usual. Then his face lapsed into a more professional cast. "Has that woman been seen hanging around before today?"

Squigly shook her head. "Not that I know of. Was Filia able to tell you anything which might explain this affair?"

The dutiful cop sighed and ground his cheap shoes into the pavement in agitation. "She's as much in the dark as we are. By the looks of it the old bag must have been living on the streets for years. Normally I'd chalk this up to her just being crazy and the kid being in the wrong place at the wrong time, except…"

"Except the woman called her by name at the end," Squigly finished his sentence.

They both looked over at the Medici heiress. Ben frowned, his investigator's brain hard at work trying to solve this puzzle. "That girl's grandfather, Lorenzo, made a lot of enemies by the time they put him in the ground. Is it possible one of those old grudges came back to haunt them?"

"That all took place decades ago," Squigly murmured. "What kind of monster could hold onto hate that long, enough to want to hurt a child who played no part in those tragedies?"

"We all know the Medici Mafia didn't die out completely. Her uncle Vitale has been a thorn in my side for years. He and his brother are estranged, but apparently the girl still has contact with him. If this is a result of one of his dealings, I'll make sure he knows it."

A clattering noise from behind caught their attention. Both turned to look as two officers lifted the black body bag and deposited it on a waiting gurney which was then wheeled over to an ambulance.

"We'll dig up whatever we can find on her," Captain Birdland offered. "But I have a feeling we might never know what really caused this."

Squigly hugged her arms, chilled despite the warmth of the afternoon. "Such a wretched creature. Still, I can't help but feel a small amount of pity for her. She must have lived a sad and lonely life 'til now."

"Do not waste your sympathy, madam," her partner Leviathan intoned darkly as he dropped between them. "Take my word for it, both of you," and he fixed a baleful eye on that ominous black sack. "Something evil died this day."

The med boys hauled it on in, and the doors shut, separating the living from the dead.

* * *

Leviathan's comment stayed with Ben when he got back to the precinct. Perhaps this was what compelled him to visit the morgue later after catching up on his paperwork. It also meant getting away from some of their more vocal prisoners. Entering the remarkably spotless autopsy chamber with its cold sterile tiles and gleaming metal examining tables, he sought out the attendants on duty today. "Afternoon, Christine, Esther."

The strikingly beautiful chief medical examiner tilted her glasses down and smiled at him before settling her pen on the desk. "Why, Captain Birdland, what a nice surprise! We hardly ever see you nowadays. That promotion comes with its perks, doesn't it?"

Her huge assistant Esther chuckled as she went by carrying a severed arm. Ben had to resist the urge to wince. He knew this line of work attracted a certain breed of person, generally ones with a dark sense of humor and no gag reflex. Still he managed to get along with most of them. They certainly weren't the creepiest members of the Basement Bunch, as some of the younger cops liked to call them. "I don't mean to intrude. I just wanted to see if you could tell me anything about the homeless lady that was brought in earlier."

"The one who went after some kids?" Esther grunted, lips contracting into a frown. "Bad egg, that. We're glad to welcome her sort here."

"She's still further down on our list." The redheaded chief rose up and sauntered around the table to stand before him. "That mess in Little Innsmouth from this morning has kept us pretty busy. You should tell your boys to be more attentive when bagging up body parts."

"Tell that to the River King," he supplied back. "Apparently some of them tried to kidnap one of his daughters, and he takes offense to that sort of behavior. Her bodyguards got… creative."

"That's the Fishbone Gang for you," little Patty drawled as she wheeled in an alarming mess of limbs.

"We'll let you know if anything comes up." The phone rang, and Christine went over to answer it. She put her hand on the receiver and gave him another charming smile. "Looking forward to seeing you again, Captain."

If Ben didn't know better, he might have thought she was flirting with him. He had met her boyfriend once, a thorough creep who worked for the government and managed to imply just by breathing that he was smarter than you. But to his credit, the guy treated Christine like he knew how lucky he was to have her. Even jerks had their good points, after all.

Ben made his goodbyes and went back upstairs. As he opened the doors, it seemed like the noise of the police precinct ratcheted up a notch just for him.

"HEY!" a loud voice mewled from one of the holding cells. "When do you blue bozos plan on letting us out, huh? I'm going to start clawing the furniture if I have to stay in here one more minute! I tell you, those jokers had it coming, just ask Minette! You rub a kitty the wrong way, you get scratched, that's for sure!"

He groaned on the way back to his office. Part of him hoped that particular case went away quickly. Another hour of listening to more cat puns and he was liable to start climbing the walls.

* * *

It was well after dark by the time Birdland dragged himself back to his small loft. Normally he didn't feel this spent, but something about today seemed to have left its mark on his soul. Off and on throughout the evening he had found himself remembering that single staring eye spied through a mass of dirty hair that had greeted him upon reaching the scene of the crime. It was all of her face he could recall. Squigly's words remained with him too: what kind of monster had been living among them unnoticed until now?

He was too wired to sleep, and so Ben flopped down in front of the TV. He turned it on and tried to follow the movie that came up but couldn't manage to figure out the plot. Something about witches, and baking gingerbread? It seemed a little immature for a horror flick. Probably a Blomqvist production. That guy loved old fairy tales.

Before he knew it he had fallen fast asleep.

 _Medici Mafia… Lorenzo… Unsolved murders… Killer on the loose… No name… No face… Black… Black… Da… Destroy it… Burn the witch… Burn her… Burn… her…_

" _BURN THE WITCH!"_

Ben scrambled up with heart beating wildly. He looked around, sensing someone in the apartment with him. But the only thing was the television. An angry mob clustered on the screen screaming with pitchforks and torches. _"Burn the witch!"_ they chanted. _"Burn her to ash!"_

His mother told him sometimes about premonitions she had throughout her life. According to her they were always true and should never be discounted. Ben certainly believed that she believed, and up 'til now that had been enough. But for the first time in his life, he actually felt something along the same lines, a compulsion so strong it was as though the heavens were speaking to him directly, trying to warn him.

" _Burn the witch! Burn the witch!"_

Ben grabbed his coat and keys and flew out of the apartment, not even bothering to lock the door behind him.

He made it to the precinct in record time and went tearing down to the basement. People gaped at him as he flew by, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was preventing something horrible which he felt deep in his bones.

He burst through the morgue doors and ducked as a scalpel went flying past his head, losing his balance to go tumbling to the tiled floor in the process.

"Sorry, Captain. You spooked me flying in like that. Is something wrong?"

Ben looked up to find Valerie bending solicitously over him, exposing a lot of herself in the process with no more concern than usual. Sadly the lady's personality prevented anyone in the precinct from trying to build on those considerable assets. There were rumors that she had been caught doing things to the dead bodies late at night, but if half of them were true she should have been fired or at least recommended for some pretty intensive counseling. Ben found her more disturbing than he would ever be willing to admit.

He jumped up and looked around. "Where's Christine?"

"Shift change," Val replied with a shrug. "You missed her by a few minutes." The gorgeous yet icy woman then slipped back to the examining table to rejoin Holly. Marginally less eerie than her partner, the smaller girl wore a black facemask at all times and was the source of other troubling office gossip. They made quite a pair. If you liked creepy with a biting sense of humor.

Through the office window he could see Esther shrugging into her trenchcoat and hat as she prepared to leave. No time to waste. He turned back to Val and said, "Have you finished your examination of the suspect from the music hall incident?"

She exchanged a glance with Holly, who lifted her eyebrows in a dismissive gesture. Valerie leaned against the table and crossed her arms. "I believe so. Christine mentioned you took an interest in it. The fingerprints will need to be checked against available records along with the dental report, but if you want an identity it'll take–"

"No. I want her scheduled for cremation. Now!"

Val's unsettling red eyes bore into him hard. Slowly she levered herself up and stood with legs spread, posture suggesting he had challenged the very sanctity of her realm. "That's against procedure. We haven't even begun to try and find out who she is. She might have been involved in any number of unsolved cases before today."

Ben didn't back down from such clear wrath. This was too important. "I'm exercising my authority, and I will accept any repercussions. But I want that body destroyed tonight, understand?"

By the looks of her she was wishing that scalpel hadn't missed its mark. In the end, though, Valerie turned and stalked over to the wall where bodies were stored in compartments. She consulted a chart hanging there, then went over to one in particular. Ben followed to take up position across from her, and with a last lethal look the medical professional grasped a handle and hauled the bin out.

Before them lay an empty white sheet.

His blood ran cold.

"Hmph." Val raised an eyebrow. As the captain stared in shock she turned and called, "Esther! Do you know what happened to the body that was in Suite 2D?"

The big woman paused halfway out the door. "Oh, some federal boys dropped by again earlier. You know, the ones from those Anti-Gigan Labs the king is so bent on promoting? Any-hoo, they were looking to collect any unclaimed cadavers as always. We had done the autopsy by then so Christi said it was alright if they took it." Esther sniffed and turned up her nose. "Good riddance. That thing gave me the creeps." She turned and left.

Valerie glanced over at Ben, not bothering to hide a smirk. She traipsed off to rejoin Holly, and the two of them began conversing in low tones, casting meaningful looks back at the captain where he stood stunned.

Held in the grip of a horrible presentiment, Ben noticed a slight bulge beneath the sheet. Numbly he reached over to withdraw the wrap.

There on the metal plank was a flower, its numerous petals of a purple so dark they were almost black.

Val noticed and came back over. "Oh, right. Christine said there were a few flowers mixed in when the cops zipped her up. We must have missed one." She examined the item in question, then turned back to Holly. "Do you recognize the type?"

The girl lifted her head from preparing a syringe and stated, "It's a dahlia."

Ben Birdland closed his eyes. I was too late. We had our chance and we blew it. The veteran law enforcement officer tried to tell himself it was all over, tried to use reason to overcome that premonition from before. But he knew in the end… in the _end…_

 _ **Evil… Never… Dies.**_


End file.
